Her eyes hold alps with glacial, snowy peaks,
Slopes sharp that love to make the trekker bleed
And in the caverns shelter if he seeks,
A startling maze he'll find himself amid.
A passage opens on a sunlit dale
Whose river's fresh and courses through a copse
That harbours in its heart a fawn so frail,
Upon the fallen leaves and resin drops.
The river mouth: a cove reserved for you,
Its sentinel a dike the waves to tame
And on the shore, Drosera honey dew
That lures you in to be devoured as game.
Her eyes hold worlds inside, unique and whole,
Which form the wondrous cosmos of her soul.