Lean out of the window,
Goldenhair,
I hear you singing
A merry air.

My book was closed,
I read no more,
Watching the fire dance
On the floor.

I have left my book,
I have left my room,
For I heard you singing
Through the gloom.

Singing and singing
A merry air,
Lean out of the window,
Goldenhair.

Frail the white rose and frail are
Her hands that gave
Whose soul is sere and paler
Than time's wan wave.

Rosefrail and fair -- yet frailest
A wonder wild
In gentle eyes thou veilest,
My blueveined child.

Rolling down the street,
like a die on the table,
what you roll,
is what you get,
the number shows,
unbeknownst,
surprise arrives,
a hint of beauty cross you,
you can't believe your luck.

she was like the sea
beautiful but filled with depth
blue and unsettled
her caress captivating
yet once submerged destructive

you picked her, I smiled anyway

don't bring me flowers
why watch beauty slowly wilt?
i'll flourish my own