There she stands
A smile on her face
A Sparkle in her eyes
She is here.

There she went
A glimpse of her hair
A sweet fragrance of Nature
She was here.

There she is lost
A smile forgotten
A sadness descends
She is not here.

There she is not
A world in mourning
A grove empty
A caretaker lost
She is gone.


Penned by my hand on the 12th of Sarapin, in the year 350 AF.