The mist rises in wispy fingers over the water,
twisting like dancers in white upon a floor of silver.
It rolls through the valleys like smoke through the rooftops
coating the earth and painting the spring grasses with dew.
The rainbow-ringed sky is blue tinged with purple.
A sky that the sun has not yet graced.
It chases away the shadows that sit crouching
beneath the dark green leaves.
The bright orange sun peeks through the dark branches,
hoping to catch a glimpse of the Lady of the Lake.
She twirls over the water, her hair a string of pearls, her face an early frost.
Her translucent dress glittering with a soft iridescence.
He comes from behind the trees to meet her,
but she shrinks away from his approach
unable to bear the gaze of his flashing eyes.
She shields her heart beneath the still surface
Which then begins to glow.
her image is hidden
by the reflection of his burning passion.