Within golden locks of yesteryear
Sit the quiet mystery of joys gone by
Shadowed in melodies we no longer hear
Breathing the final eternal sigh
Out into the ethers of the the sky's eternity
In the blue of your eyes it is all that I see
Speaking upon moments that fade into time
In swirling mists and pale soft skin
As white and gentle as the powdered mime
Who in the box must always begin
Yet somehow she spins him out and far away
Upon the winds of things they have yet to say
Many a story was created in her light
That once never meant quite the same thing
All beyond our own far too human sight
She to the center of all life must bring
The imaginary moments she holds in a chest
Of gold and medallions and all of the best
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