This is when the world is golden.
When sun shimmers on the branches of forever-green trees
And light dances on the apple blossoms, white since spring came.

This is when the world is alive.
She is truly a women,
glowing and happy, radiating unrestrained joy,
Smiling at all the little moments of wonder she held in her day.
She caresses the leaves with gentle sunlight,
lulls the trees into a careless sway with the deep lavender
of the evening breeze.

This is when the world is golden.
When she is singing.