The  rivulet carries your dreams
as will the  cherry  blossom,
an eddy of  hope will  serenade
before a certain loss shorns your patience,
of  a  love lost
and to  realise  its only  channel is  a seashell
the  sound  before  the  rivulet
where  once  you  were the  liege
but  the  coarse fisherman's daughter
left with the  whittle of a voyage
can only  laugh at  the  serenity of  your  suggestion
the assumption behind  your  dream