Often times in my orchard...

I see her moving in graceful steps of bellet in a baby pink tulle skirt...

The wind carries her from the ground to the sky... Like a playful lover blowing kisses of affection...

Her essence is ether...and her heart a lovely gathering of bonded petals...

Her bee buddies always seem to cling to her... humming to her tales of colorful lands...

She baths in hiding of chilled dew and contours her cheeks in divine pink...

I wonder if the holy earth sprouted her or an angel from the sky... for her beauty seems  neither of heaven nor of the earth...

Whatever be her origins or her source of grace...the heart reaches out to her in dark times...

To lead me to the way of light...
Slowly and stealthily through the steps of pink!