The days had passed, as did months
The dewdrop of second month had begun
Love and spring was everywhere
Enchanted was everything, air filled with enthusiasm and fun

There was a sudden rush
Of flowers, birds, spring towards the unknown visitor
With inexplicable gait she trod
Filling the air with untrue hatred, she sprung love

Clasping her hands were those fate lifted creatures
In agony did espy those unknown poachers
For she filled the devils horns with earnest content
For she doth teach the torches to burn

For she was beautiful and her beauty made
The bright world dim and everything beside
Seemed like the soporific paradise
Like a winged burglar the dove sauntered above her

Her eyes were the windows of her soul
Her mouth the door through which enter and exit
Pleasant words like a honeycomb
Filling sweetness in the soul and courage to the body

For she doth taught me the true meaning of love
That love is the wisdom of the fool, folly of the wise
Teaching prudence and all moralities
For she was the mother, the eternal source of light

The brightness of her cheek showed the stars to twinkle
The redness of her lips made the rose feel ashamed
Her flowing hair like robes of Satin
Eyes, like embedded rubies in the gaps of serenity

Her blushes gave birth to a bucketful of honey
She gave my eyes she gave my ears
Love of contentment and sweetness of words
She gave my heart, she gave my soul
A reason to pound, a reason to live

Her grace was like a rising sun
After being risen a glorifying nun
She was there when the day had begun
And she was there when only darkness did run

She taught me the poetry of life
It was the music of thought, conveyed to me in the music of language
The ray of light had to catch her gait
But understood it was, till the end of the world it had to wait

She had no voice, gave no sound
Oh! The silence sank unto me
Like the music on my heart
Like the simplicity of the scabbard of blood

Victor she was, known as victory; this is what she taught
The essential thing is life, is not conquering, but fighting well
Grace was in all her steps, love in her eye
In every act she was Goddess of divinity

So much of her have I told thee
So much, the depth of thy comprehension
With her mirth intellectual filling of desolate soul
Should but thou reveal her identity

For thy, people of hatred called her love
For thy, people of defeat called her victory
For thy, people of avarice called her patience
For thy, people of earth called her a Goddess

Filling my heart and the soul with the fragrance of her love
Unknown, untold, unlaid with satisfaction my thoughts have laid
I wait, I see, I hear, I feel the days pass
I know she will come, she will return, for she is my lone February’s fair maid.