Portrait of a Woman

You turn and glance, with veils of turquoise evening,

and rose ribbons, eyes serene like a crescent moon.

Faded mountains in the distance. 

With a fine gown.

With hands created to lift others up. Beauty, smile, night, world.

The green ground is filled with white dandelions, wishes. The trees twist gracefully and still offer white flowers. The once lost people lose themselves in remembrance and a song. There is a joy that moves. 

Come, moon, we will sing the new song again.

Nothing is lost, all is altered.

We will not remember the troubles - you will cast these years off, a relief. Do you hear this melody?