Lemonade Lady

She was both summertime and subtlety Stitched with woven threads of transparency Fresh as sheets strung on a line She smelled of dew and clementines The cocoa brown of her deep eyes Sometimes seem to prophesize That which with the seasons would unfold A storyteller's soul spinning gold She was magic dust and daffodils Announced by birds on windowsills A liquidity to the stride she kept Few could guess how long she'd wept She wore billowy blouses and shed her shoes Near the breeze of the sea and without clues Mingled in the briars, the woods, the vines An evergreen heart by the forested pines She noticed each petal, each puddle of rain Stayed in the meadow of her thought's sweet refrain Certain that time was soon coming her way She washed her hands in the mist of the bay And without nearly a reason or warranted notion Slept in the calm and the call of the air by the ocean Browned by the egg break of the dawn's yellow sun She wondered how life had become so undone Yet she'd bend, as branches do, refusing to break Seeing a crystal clear reflection of hope on the lake And when the west wind would rally to kick up it's heels She'd stroll with defiance headstrong to the fields The rose of her cheeks, a blush bravely worn Such beauty to witness, no prick of a thorn For out there for taking her own fortuned fable If only for questing, if only, if able