Rarely though does she speak,

Her mother the earth,

Her father the sky,

Today she speaks with whom gave her birth…

They speak a language of their own,

From whence they came it was their home,

Her sap her life’s blood, in warmth it does roam,

In winter it does sustain her under fathers dome…

Love she does of her earth mother,

Though her father does send bolts,

When angered with another,

Jealous he is of her flirting with passing clouds,

Not allowed is she to date till the year 2008,

Though she did like most children, revolt…

© ed ~ 2/12/06