For one moment,
one scintilla or a blinding flash,
I thought I saw my crimson glory drift  upon the four  leaf clover meadow,
statue  in an August sunlight zephyr,
mustard yellow dress in full fig,
aromatic loved one’s kiwi trail,
fragrant and deodorizing vernal plots or so it seemed,
cherry  blossom mimes from  queen eternal that endlessly enchanted green horizons,
but these were only vacant  blue-sky musings,
memories of an iridescent orb,
whose grand tsunami zest sent seismic waves across this earth before her sudden and untimely exit.