Wearing camouflage in wall-flower tradition no longer seeing another who’ll take the time to peer within. Perpetually in autumn’s dress, near the deep sleep of winters cold, though nothing close to bitterness in her tresses could one behold. With tranquility the foundation of each new days new sun rising True beauty flows unseen winding gracefully between past’s mountains. As the parting lights of each sunset blushes the cheeks of a day’s survival the night begins in loving hope of a dream that will bring revival Casting camouflage aside with dreams of him; the only one who took the time to see and peer within. ©Debra Squyres 2015 1/3/15