Your laughter echoed
In the valleys
And the greens did dance
In answer to your echo,
The flowers did bloom
And the joy of your face
A resemblance to every
Flower that bloomed.
The tender buds
Swaying with the breeze
Could not compete
With the tenderness of your lips,
Your eyes danced
To the music of the lute,
The flowers swayed
And the colours splayed
But nothing could enhance
The joy of living on your face.
