With silken skin and warm to the touch
she came to me in the old Dutch barn.
A love of natural and the spoken word
were the threads to bind and sustain.
Hair as silver as the glowing moon
a smile on her so young and fair.
A gentle soul in the cool of evening
walked with me through the shimmering air.
With piercing mind and aware of self
my hand she took as if we were lovers.
All fell away as we heeded the call
of Fate and the fortune that covers.