#.#.......                                          ##.#..#...
#.#.......                                          .#.#.##..#
#.#......#                                          ##.#..#.#.
#.#.....##                                          .#.#.##.#.
#.#....#.#                                          ##.#..#.#.
#.#...##.# there's   a   maiden   on    the   hill. .#.#.##.#.
#.#..#.#.#                                          ##.#..#.#.
#.#.##.#.# grey ceramics,  overshowered  with moss, .#.#.##.#.
#.#..#.#.# stretching     toward    the    horizon. ##.#..#.#.
#.#.##.#.#                                          .#.#.##.#.
#.#..#.#.# she moves her feet.                      ##.#..#.#.
#.#.##.#.#             the patch is wet.            .#.#.##.#.
#.#..#.#.#                                          ##.#..#.#.
#.#.##.#.# an island in the clouds,                 .#.#.##.#.
#.#..#.#.# she's  cozy  and  strong  on  the  crest ##.#..#.#.
#.#.##.#.# with her sheep.                          .#.#.##.#.
#.#..#.#.# and noone else is around.                ##.#..#.#.
#.#.##.#.#                                          .#.#.##.#.
#.#..#.#.# as her feet move  her hazily forward she ##.#..#.#.
#.#.##.#.# looks around, and  spots  another island .#.#.##.#.
#.#..#.#.# on the sea of foam.                      ##.#..#.#.
#.#.##.#.#                                          .#.#.##.#.
#.#..#.#.# stops     mid-stride.     she    frowns. ##.#..#.#.
#.#.##.#.#                                          .#.#.##.#.
#.#..#.#.#                                          ##.#..#.#.
#.#.##.#.#                                          .#.#.##.#.
#.#..#.#.#                                          ##.#..#.#.
#.#.##.#.#                                          .#.#.##.#.