Desultory

Alone on the side,

Of a hill so wide.

From a daisy white,

To the depth of night.

The petal it fell,

From heaven to hell.

Beneath an oak tree,

So wild and free.

Winters snow hath melt,

And springs warmth now felt.

A marked stone turned,

Toward the sun burned.

The story untold,

A secret so old.

(Now you're going back in time...)