Pelting my face to a glistening ruby gleam, Rinsing my hair to a gleaming ebony sheen, Soaking my soul like nourishing comfort soups...
In awe I read, of nature’s might and deeds, Season her faithful partner, shadowing her.
I am today, The child you showed what precious means. And always precious you will be to me.
How long should be the rope of hope, Stringing along our heartfelt dreams and plans? What if this rope that’s quickly wearing thin Be shorter than our mortal earthly life...
Pouty lips, plum-deep and fuschia bright, Now sulk behind the masked layers.
