In a world as fresh as snow,
I walked a woodland path I know,
And paused beneath an ancient oak
Whose shadow leaves the wind would blow.

On this bright day wise raven spoke,
And stole the Sun into his cloak.
He hid his spoils of thievery
In the dark heartwood of the oak.

When Raven left the shaded tree,
I found the Sun and set him free.
A gift of light:  There in disguise
A lovely spirit in this tree.

She wore great wings like butterflies’.
She cooed; the voice of silken sighs;
A trap she laid with eyes of moon.
Away I flew without goodbyes.

Some days I dream my life’s fortune
If I had stayed that afternoon,
To be drawn up in love’s cocoon,
I think I left her much too soon.

Oh, yes.  I left her much too soon.

Stumble it!