Botanical drawings and Madisyn in Jalouse. Made sense to me. So I made it happen.
when the sweet flower droop and die,
think that my hopes all withered lie
as she - all ignorant of the arts
that wiser maids are plying -
has crept into my heart of hearts,
past doubting or denying;
roses and butterflies snared on a fan,
all that is left of a summer gone by;
of swift, bright wings that flashed in the sun,
and loveliest blossoms that bloomed to die!