An Ode to her juvenilia 

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Withering Ambience

I saw them not, with which her youth is fed
but, I could feel all vigorous things purely bred.
Thoughts of eminent deeds they were,
some of grating discord that slur.
Within her, till there came upon her mind
an innermost chord once had she twined.
To yield to the impetus of her youth,
basking heaped in its canorous truth.
Among those, her spirit stood steadfast
even now, as beloved as her past,
too weak the form for so strong the lore,
for wherever she be-
would behold all which once she dared to be
And she had gripped in her stellar eyes; and chased
dreams that were never meant for her- erased,
dreams that have now died and departed
whilst her own soul still truly asserted.
Not turning senseless from dappled past thereon
and still saw those dreams she gazed fondly on.
All infallible memories cradled in heart

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