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There is no woman like Lady Vine,
Whose hair is white and coarse like twine.
Autumn leaves the color of eyes,
And mouth of rose which never lies.
Willowed hands hold tiny flowers,
Emerald tears bear various powers.
Voice which can be soft and warm,
Carries cries of wind and storm.
Touch heals fire in a forests wake,
Causes tremors, the Earth to shake.
A scent is left as she walks by,
Of daffodils and winter sky.
Oh Lady Vine, your Earth doth call,
Watch over us, winter to fall.
Hides in lakes beneath the brine,
Come and greet us, Lady Vine,
With you as mother, the Earth is fine.