The pale flower

Dancing in the wind,

As pale as snow,

It danced until sunset,

Until it had grown,

Off went its petals,

Laying there so hush,

A still little flower

Too delicate to crush,

Awaiting there until the spring,

The little flower lay there to embrace the morning's cold sting,

As pale as snow,

As strong as before,

She lay there so still to be reborn once more.