Benign, benevolent ballerina bubbly bathing by beautiful blossoming balsams.
A gander I took and I was a statue in her stead. Still and without a word my mind a victim of frost bites, notions frozen, the Ice ages the living flame inside my mind. I shall speak if only I could master but a few words, my lips basted by beauty, the surgent of admiration before her I am an apparition, lost in forests of adulation.
A vanishing spirit soon to be a vestige of a vestige. I shall wage wars arm myself and battle my way to her hands, where I shall rest as the past presents the future without a dress.