Her tears are swept away
by headland winds so strong
and in this deserted moment
her heart pangs and longs

For she is the lost girl Friday
her hair sea salt with spray
for her never does come Saturday
never here, never that day

Looking fast to ocean blue
hope of silver wings on the horizon
she stands petite with wanting
to bear natures only son

Weather may change
but she will stand fast
for death to her
is a familiar friend

As long as she prevails
this world will last
hope springs eternal
yet even hope can dry

By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris