They tell of a soul, conflicted and caring, half made of sunshine, half cast in moon’s light. For friends and more is she ever caring, taking their burdens, both heavy and light.

An artist’s free spirit dwells in her, ever balanced by writers’ fine wit. A poet’s sage wisdom if ever there were, with a skeptic’s sharp queries is writ.

Lithe of body and mind in fighting trim, lover of nature in all of its forms. Competing passions filled to the brim, the calm’s exciting as the storm.

Dwelling eternal betwixt dawn and night; though this be so, darkness has its delights.

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