Just 'neath the frosty garb          of a shimmering hoary dew, a

picturesque meadow lies     swaying in the waning starlight

before the eyes of a sweet       and fair maiden, a dervish

whirling and singing her diaphanous      solo to the budding

flowers that sprout upon the verdant     landscape, unripened

and impatient to soft petals thrusting     outward and becoming

saturated in deep purple, blue, and yellow-gold       at the suns

ascent. Up above, a tempera image      now slowly appears from

behind        the curtain of twilights intermission-it is the

reddening energized sky      of a new day dawning -and the

morning rays       of light glare, bathing her, the admirer

enclosed by the horizon,     in the warmth and fineness of the

season.