her eyes, green-gray still waters, do not cry
not mirror nor window of soul's
dark spaces,
guardians hold prisoner, secrets shy
in soft tranquil deep and twilight traces
her skin, like dogwood blossoms translucent
rose petal fair and water-lily pale
heaven-bound as nimbus, storm-cloud spent
fresh as a lamb, nested quiet in vale (read more at Waterlily Rose Maiden)