"Yours" a Cinquain Garland

She sways,
tumbles with ease,
down upon sacred ground,
rocking horse swaying on silence,
golden.

She says,
through the trees love,
on mountaintops she fly's,
tan butterfly fluttering Steve,
spiraled.

For she,
came on this earth,
shining my Angels eyes,
silvery powdered shadowy disguise,
comfort.

Take me,
on islands love,
pitter-patter my Queen.
My Princess foreshadowed my life,
serene.

She stays,
in my eyes felt,
her contemporary grace,
fell from strings spindled interlace,
placid.

She sways,
through the trees love,
shining my Angels eyes.
My Princess foreshadowed my life,
placid.