I strolled through the forest,
Peaceful and calm,
Looking for nothing,
Just right after dawn.


As I came to an opening,
There I did see,
A bright pretty flower,
And I named her "Harmony."


As I knelt down to pick her,
She opened up and said,
Must I be picked, wilt then be dead?


I told the small flower,
"You are pretty and strong,
I wish to take you to my garden,
Where you can bloom on and on."


And now every morning,
I can look out my window and see,
The same pretty flower,
Resting there so gracefully.


Then one day as I was working in my yard,
She whistled to me to come from afar,
I knelt down to listen to what she had said,
"Winter is coming and soon I'll be dead."


And now every day,
When I walk out that door,
I see where Harmony was,
But she doth lay there no more.

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