Beating through walls of years
like a never-ending heart machine.

She walked in nonchalantly,
dawdling on wisps of the summer breeze.

The sun fell on her lashes,
breaking into seven colours
that make merry so fleetingly.

And returning like a moody river,
her smiles, like pools of dew,
her laughs, like torrents of petals,
her silence, an exciting mystery.