Fast her wild days ran tall as forest foxglove,
long the happy sun of wing full prayers and beating drums
grassy knees ripening green on summer's lawn
honeycombed hideouts of laughing stings and bees
running long through wild meadows
pale of butter's milky cream
a child's face soft as flower petals
so quick to bud into full bloom
blushing in her rosy days
a swan soon flies to the wild unknown
there where an hourglass looks on