she wanders through the forests and the groves,
her bare feet scarce upon the mossy ground,
as day sinks into night without a sound
and sunset fills the skies with pinks and mauves;
and like a restless breeze she wildly roves,
a love-lost woodland dryad, summer-crowned
and who could ever guess where she was bound,
or why the sea so whispered near the coves.
her eyes as bright as a white-feathered dove,
beyond the river, near a sheltered tree,
she rests awhile finds lilies for her hair,
their flowery mist no prettier than she,
(enchanting in the hearkened, vibrant air,)
her heart soft-brimmed with longing and with love.
Oct 31, 2015
Oct 31, 2015 at 10:44 AM UTC
she wanders through the forests and the groves,
her bare feet scarce upon the mossy ground,
as day sinks into night without a sound
and sunset fills the skies with pinks and mauves;
and like a restless breeze she wildly roves,
a love-lost woodland dryad, summer-crowned
and who could ever guess where she was bound,
or why the sea so whispered near the coves.
her eyes as bright as a white-feathered dove,
beyond the river, near a sheltered tree,
she rests awhile finds lilies for her hair,
their flowery mist no prettier than she,
(enchanting in the hearkened, vibrant air,)
her heart soft-brimmed with longing and with love.
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