She scribbles endlessly, ferociously
waiting for her true love to glance
  the aching in her wanton heart
pen'd in crimson's darkly hued soul
   inky passages of the past
when the sun still shine'd a'glow
   and all was write with the world

As the wind rushes over the moors
  she thinks of her Heathcliff'd dreams
reverie of timely love season'd skies
   when spring sprung eternally
old man winter was only a notion
  frozen in another's memories
  til stormy nights overcame the fantasy

Still, she revisits her place in the sun
  bleeding out on paper without conscience
a wavering inner voice triumphs demurely
   as emotions spill over the tethered wastelands
once a land of wide open lush filled pleasures
  this place now only a reminder of tormented defeat
yet, her resolve for passion's affection remains