The sunny brook babbled happily through the friendly forest. Any semblance of unrest was washed downstream in a flash flood of frivilous fathoms. Peace washed my soul like the linens soiled so long ago. Tranquility tripped on the tip of my tongue and the taste was that of ambrosia. My slice of heaven sliding across the forest floor.
It was here that I first found the fruits within my own soul. Life loitered by the lapping lips of this lavish little creek. Love lifted itself high above the plains and drifted with the winds to settle no place but here. The waters sang to me a sweet little diddy at night. They kissed my forehead and pulled the covers tight, lest I lay awake. I rambled stories and penned poetry in the forks of the branches of the trees by its' side.
Across the lake where the creek found rest was a beautiful young girl, seemingly always seated at her piano. Sounds and songs of Beethoven and Bach streamed and screamed across the wakeless waters of that peaceful pond. The sound was the voice of God, joyful and bright. Her face held the countenance of a masterpiece never finished, beautiful and mysterious. The crickets exhaulted her with every glorious note, and the burn of her lantern was the light of hope that burned so deep within my soul.
I was quite content just to sit and listen, but a desire burned deeper within my soul. If only I had some great ship to catch her eye. If only I had some flare or S.O.S. If only I had some way to cross the gap. But nary I had that power, for some unwanted visitor should bring a ship of his own. Flares were fired, and her heart answered his desperate call for help. Never again would she play that piano. Never again would I see my love. Never again.