Hands outstretched cross cold North Sea
With arms thrown wide, becomingly
The shaded scene's from fantasy,
Entrapped within the vortices.
She stands amid the heather's green
Black riding cap of velveteen
Tops gentle eyes a- sparkling,
And hands on hips commandingly.
But then she frowns and gracefully
Slowly mounts her chestnut steed,
And reining wide around a tree
She canters off amidst the mead
I watch her as she crests the lee,
Brunette hair blown in fresh'ning breeze
Her eager poise, innocently
A sight to etch in history.