A morning in magenta, The petals fed from the dew 
She held her breath for a moment, To pause off the stream 
Still clinging to vast, Old memories 
And I would marvel at her beauty, Playing through the rain 
The coffin is beautifully engraved 
Stained by soil, Symbols of death 
All of which are stared upon, With porcelain eyes it seems 
Some spoke, And it was my turn to go 
In death entwined, I could not believe 
But it hangs around my neck 
A soft breeze passed me by, Somewhat warmer for a second 
I knew it was the coming of spring, Thus our April Ethereal