Figures full of straws now babbled on stage.
The air crumpled like old newspapers.
But there at the corners of the hall,
She glowed on heels like a long-stemmed rose
And burst to my eyes as a lone-beam of sun
On days that are cluttered with clouds.
Babble now dimmed, and people were thinned
As the air played with violins and flute
Ballads of the twilights we hadn't yet shared.
Eyes now are autumnal lake
Queened by an isolated swan.
Far beyond crowds of meaningless talk
Her's is the sun to my unwavering globe
That shoots through my sunflowering soul.