The Tears On Her Dress

The rippling hills of brilliant
silk that flowered
from still fountains now
flourish on a sunlit frock.

They drape a pair of legs
in sorrow as tears sleepily seep
from their sinews, covering the
creme dress in depression's dews.

They were once free,
flying through the air, warm and soft,
Only to be dropped into the
cool draughts of her vibrancy.