I dreamt of me, I think, was it really me
Blowing roughly through the rain
I seemed so sure of my way, too true of my mark
Riding through the forest in the dark .
Was I ever that bold when young
So naked, and plucked clean of doubt.
When had the light gone out?

She was there, she was there,
At the clearing in the copse, where I knew she’d be.
Only hair covering flesh, which glowed despite the moon.
Her eyes shining through the night
Were a brimming cup of jewels
And she was mine, yes once she was mine,
Were we ever really so young, so divine?

But, I remember now, ah yes, all too well
The clothes she wore to cover the swell.
And how different it was after a time
Never so bold, softer, wiser , but still divine.
Yet fear had been delivered in a forests scream
The truth of wisdom, she said, ends the dream.

But now, all too soon it seems, all too soon,
Stooped beneath the light of a moon,
Time has melted, the beauty I had once known,
And under the hood, stands now a crone.
But written absolute, through her every crag and line,
Is that while I may have fallen, she stands, still divine.