The icy wind chilled the back of my head my feet are so very cold, like boots of lead what could this be if not but circumstance for here I am in this garden-that is so well secluded...
...Here in this meadow of silence and soft for here I am so light-headed; aloft yet my arms, legs, and nose are frosted cold but it is still worth it, this meadow old for here I am in this land of hist'ry and time a child so well deluded...
...What happened was simple enough-I froze thus occurred only the grove truly knows For I fell to the ground in a deep daze and while I there, I stared in a deep gaze For here I am in this land of peace and joy I feel like I have quite intruded...
...And here I have in one of pale hand I held a small bit of yellow-gray sand and everything stopped for me-all but time all I heard was a solitary chime for there I was in that land of hist'ry, time, tranquility, and maybe even love I was there for but a moment, but shall remember almost like-no- of a dove...
