To the Moon

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𝕿he city's all shining underneath a fickle sun. Stands cold and still between. The sun is gone in, the leaves are turning green. In fragrance of perspectives and beauty, with the lovely birds that will sing, the roses return. Spring has come once again. And when the spring arrives, everyone remembers her name. Arleanne Bernadette Janessa. She is the one who will cognizance that the first daffodil of spring is blooming. When the breeze howls and the frost approaches, she endures with comfort like a winter fire. Her soft touch and soft smile. A newborn serenity. Isn't she beautiful?
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