Age 13

 

In the land beyond the sunset lives a maid,

A wondrous maid.

Behind the salmon-streaked horizon

Hides she her perfect form of alabaster white.

In her eyes are the first stars of dusk,

In her glowing hair the sun’s last golden ray,

Bright golden ray.

Her flaming tresses filter through the clouds

That nestle round her milk-white breast.

With a taunting laugh full rich upon her lips

She reaches forth to gild the hills – and me.

But all such splendid things must find

Their ending –

The vixen of the sunset faces death.

Her luster fades away into oblivion,

Leaving not a remnant of her presence

But the brightening stars that once had been

Her eyes.

Cynthia Buell

Age 13