Her wispy white dress disappeared in the trees;
The spirits of the forests welcomed her beauty.
The passion that burned off every footprint;
Grew new life from her vitality.
Afar from the ocean but the sea remain still;
As the willows bowed to her presence and mimicked the grace of her amber curls.
Oh, how they resembled the patterns of the wind.
Sleek her hair was, giving a look of aspiration as a single strand fell between her emerald eyes;
A picturesque sea of green amongst the bronze sunset after a storm, when the gods have said their long deserved peace and the flowers bloomed once again in the halcyon valleys.
The graceless freckles that adorned her pale, undarkened face revealed her fair semblance;
Scattered over to mimic the constellations.
She wandered through the silhouettes of the woods;
Like a lost, ghastly soul that sailors oft' see on the shores of the battlefields when come early morning.
Her wispy, white dress illuminated a moonlight apparition for a night soul to see.
She sang a mournful tune to comfort the birds;
But it carried out through the bays and the fishermen believed;
That this was the voice of the dead to be heard;
Carrying out omens to remember their prosperity.
This was the hymnn of the girl in the grove;
The lady in white who wanders mountain roads.
The siren in the seas who longs for your soul;
The ghost in the trees who watches the crossroads.
This was the melody of a restless spirit;
The music from her whispers that awake you too soon.
The story that's passed on to frighten lost travelers;
The blaze of light that flows past the moon.
This was the melody that make feet spin;
This was the voice of the Wispy Girl.