Often in the land of dew,
I waltz around and look for you.
You absence persists as days flow
Following things you ought to know.

In this place of light and soft,
I caress the growing grass and moss,
reminding me of our days past,
the tender whims of pats and laughs.

I now hum the tune of your will
I know that must hear me still.
Whichever place you think you roam,
all paths lead to our small home.

If life has taught me anything true,
patience would never search for you.

Often In this land of dew,
I waltz around and look for you.
I do not wait nor endure,
my stillness remains blue and pure.

I smile without cease for your return,
Whether you do or not is not of my concern.