White lips, pale face, breathing in the snowflakes,
By dawn’s first light she lay awake.
Huddling for warmth
The snow bunting tweeted,
Flapping by the windows
And slurring long and short notes.
Walking through the halls made of timber and oak,
She hummed her favourite folk-
‘How many seas must a white dove sail
Before she sleeps in the sand?
And how many times must the cannon balls fly
Before they’re forever banned?
The answer, my friend, is blowing in the wind
The answer is blowing in the wind’
Stomping grounds, she ran through the dock,
Scattering feed in the waters for the flock.
Affection and mirth danced in her eyes,
Making them sparkle like radiant summer skies.
Plunging from the highest highs,
She flung through the winds of July.
Teasing and tempting,
Imposing her charm,
She strolled through the woods so dark so cold,
Tucking her tresses half grey and gold.
Plucking cherries and sucking berries,
In fancies of a maiden fairy.
Telling stories of a dead soul,
Little infants she cajoled.
Handing them berries in the bush
Purring ‘Hush a bye, baby hush.’
Infinite boulevard 