There was a rolling hill,
The fog disappeared behind it,
As the sultry apparition floated,
Past the lamp post,
The striking flame of beauty,
Shone a-glimpsed,
Curtly,
Playfully,
Wistful,
Strolled onwards up the hill,
To gaze over the darkened grass,
The multitudes of inference,
The dazzling emptiness of night,
The peace of the buzzing insects,
Sweetly,
Softly,
Calmly,
All there was,
Was over that hill,
On the other side,
Waiting,
Breathing,
Tired,
The land stretched,
Ethereal ghosts played above,
In the clouds,
They shook loose the pinset,
The rush of water hit her face.