i hear echoes of the wishes
my heart and my head
battle to rationalise

only for a moment as
the sky lets itself fall apart
everything is quiet

the moments pass more quickly
and when i blink i know
the illusion i cling to will vanish

the world will be covered
and i won’t remember
anymore

where up it hangs and glows to guide,
to there i’ll leap and learn to fly.

flickering lights bring much delight
as ribbons of my dreams ignite.

of golden spells and mermaid bells
the twinkling stars do arc.

and in it all a laugh rings out
soon followed by a shout,

the night’s alive with happy things
and magic bounds about.

find ye near here don’t turn away,
though nearer than you ought.

for if you listen carefully
you’ll hear the evening’s plot.

as up he rises quite a sight,
mischievous his game

the shadows scatter in his wake
for fear of being tamed.

so soon i see the moonlight smile
as it begins to fade,

the darkness bleeds into the light
as to the sky i’m bade.

the clouds part sides like ocean waves
and i am marked as nave,

unto this place of quiet hope
and to the boy it gave.

though separated from his gaze
my memory keeps him brave,

through listless nights to bring him back,
in all my dreams i lack.

the what, the when, the how, the why
are nowhere near the way to fly.

with chin held high though spirits low,
i gently sing a soft echo.

into the dull and vapid sky
i weakly sit and start to cry,
for shadows found and lost.

the stars dip down and touch the waves
and echo their reflection, grave
in their faces does reflect
this new, new world and it’s defect

when morning dawns and breaks the day
the caves have nothing more to say
for our good luck of treasured gold
the men before have sold their souls

when the moon is high and lit,
the nightlife comes alive.
be careful where you step, my pet,
for jesters gone awry.

the queen on heightened glory soars,
‘fore iridescent eyes.
her praises ring melodious charms,
from gentlemen in ties.

the courtiers’ prancing waltz
erupts in trumpet cries,
children gulp down chocolate malts,
and want no beddy-byes.

and so begins a fairy scene
as from the days of old,
when children were entranced by such,
and the stories were retold.

so when at next you see a gleam
of diamond in the brush,
know the joy of fae and queen,
is whispered with a “hush!”