Her hair as dark as a raven's wings
Her voice so mystical when she sings
Her skin as soft as nature brings
These things I see as she tightly clings
To the one that loved her in the spring.

Now all she holds is the memory
Of the time they loved so tenderly
And in her eye, the tear I see
Is shed as part of reality.

DeLayne V. Perry

Copyright ©2006 DeLayne Victoria Perry