
Scattered on the ground:
pearls of a precious lady;
wattle of this land.

Scattered on the ground:
pearls of a precious lady;
wattle of this land.

Vintage chandelier,
charming a new audience—
throwing globes around.

Cold feet wearing off,
the buds are ready to pop
spring is almost here.

On, we yearn to fly,
our pasts are a bit blurry;
rain drops on windows.