L'arbre

July 27, 2010
A scent, sprolluping light
Upon the faerie breath wind
Tickling, tangled
And dribbles drown my chin
Hidden behind that white
And rose-petaled moon kiss
Perched on the mangled
A face of mischievous bliss

A wafting call, light and warm
And a voice I cannot seem to hear
Falling in and out of branches
Beckoning without fear
But my footsteps have become worn
Faltering as I draw close
All the while she dances
A flickering, fantastical ghost

And left? I, only here to gaze
Merely mortal in this moonlit haze





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