Call her the child that joyfully hid in the box .. A young lady whom did speak freely without reservation , expressing herself with song on a medium of heartbreak and denial .. Whispered melodies , in constant improvisation  , imagination eventually retained , naive thoughts sadly sequestered ....
Love .. Nestlings high atop a Willow tree , expecting to fly , all that is good in the world crashing around you as you die .. The sunbeam bringing the rainbow to life , a new Moon seeking audience on a cold black night ...