It moves like a melody

It moves like a melody,

Gently through my mind;

It blossoms like spring flowers

And wafts away like fragrance.

But when it is captured in words,

And placed before my eyes,

It turns pale like a gray mist

And disappears like a breath.

And yet, remaining in my rhymes

There hides still a fragrance,

Which mildly from the quiet bud

My moist eyes call forth.