July 17, 2005
Fades the day to fairy night,
grows the dark from deep twilight which,
dawn or dusk, bears semblance of remains
of life and love and solitary days.
Twinkles fire of fairies bright,
fades the western pale of light;
tales of love may yet unfold
as patience waits through trials untold.
Fields of green transform to citrine blaze,
as fairies dance in wild romance
and fancies of the mind,
leaving mundane thoughts behind,
seeking not to grieve nor to repine.
Let me dance with fairies,
in the fields of citrine night,
under skies of diamonds bright,
with clover in my hair, honey on the breeze,
breasts bared to the deepening dark,
until I too am free and laughing fiercely
at the thundering sky.