Her hand she lays on the paper,
Her heart she gives to art.

Lost fragments of dreams to
Recover,
To fly freely like a dove.

Her dialogue is always about
Love, lights, gleam.

She talks of beautiful sunsets.
Yes, she finds her visions in
A dream.

Don't think she is incapable
Of healing your sorrows.

She always masters a plan.
She'll touch your heart without
Intent,

Never stays more than minutes,
But you'll miss her when she's gone.