Amidst the brush, the one not found
Crouched low against the foul ground
The anguished cries, they do resound
In ears of only one not bound
By promise of silence, no sound

The guardian in frantic search
Among the soiled Oak and Birch
Where eerie shadows ever lurch
To bells of that forgotten church
In their phantom-stricken perch

Eternal wall with weld-shut catch
Brute strength that one has yet to match
Down spirit-ers it does attach
To any hopes it does not snatch
From her within that misty patch

Kaleidoscope of colors twirl
Just out of grasp, evasive swirl
Detached from spring’s grand crowning pearl
The flowers, grey, when they unfurl
Leave little hope, dimensions whirl