A scarlet rose, a golden ring,
And though the rose requited be red
The circlet shatters on returning.
I chase my love through wood and field,
She beckons with a lulling call
And while her shape through fingers slip
Her cries echo a darker soul.
Awake, I find no rest till dawning
Lit as waxen as star or moon
Gazing on the golden circlet
With cracks spilling like veins through stone
As sunlight hits the western shore
The candle sighs a wisp of grey
I rise, but wearied from my chase
Drift ghostly through the morrow's day
[Iambic tetrameter except break in S1L4, 4/4, abcb - half rhyme S3]
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