Tired of here and now and who knows where –

(it doesn't matter)

leaning over porch rails

away from the garish squares of light

electric loud barbequed gossip –

away into the pale silk black

of an evening of fireflies

lazy lays summer

a magical peacetime –

but I am no child

and I know the difference

between reality and fantasy

(I thought I did at least).

But what is a thought?

(A fantasy…)

Barefoot in the grass

dewy damp with rain fallen in daylight

fallen from another world to this one where

normal sight will lead you nowhere –

here in the moonlight I see lights in the woods

just off in the woods

just off to the side from the cabin

the Others are talking and laughing inside

and no one will miss me if I follow the fancy

just off in the woods.

Color doesn't matter

what matters is light –

and the wordplay of shadows

cricket song lyrics rain tree melody

the trees turn into notes for the night.

A rustling drawing

(a heart-held breath)

a clearing

place out of time (time out of place)

only the rhyme-rhythm of the story made real.

Fairy ring

(doorway to Faery)

mycelia circle.

Too deep into thought and dreaming tonight

to remember my name –

and then they appear

appearing as rainbows of white –

a dance in every shade of starshine

a long and wild one

and a circling song of owl and reed

a flute of river water

a pearl harp note taking time to drop onto the moss.

A figure turns –

female with flashing eyes

opal fire flaming blue sky bright insanity.

There is no right and wrong here

(only light and dark and dancing).

Dance with me!

She holds out a hand

holding nothing –

but to hold it

only take it

and be taken turned swift within

away

within the ring –

I want to dance I want to wish

I wish for my wishes

to come true –

(desire truths).

Dance with me?

her eyes are yearning

(yet they are laughing).

I won't!

You will?

I won't…

You will…

I will…

You will!

I…

A wan hand catches at mine

one step to reach the mark –

but –

I stood too long.

Longing

standing at the edge as the carol winds away

in the blinking of an eye.

Silence in the trees and a stealing wheeling wind

twists the leaves off of their twigs

sets them to the ground –

a love wreath for a ring.

Returning –

step upon the stair –

creak and zip of breeze in screen –

(screeching sounds of mirth

smoke and static) –

turning back?

There is no turning back.

But still –

looking out into the dark

(remember there is truly nothing but the darkness and dancing)

there is the dance

in the air –

a question ever waiting for the answer.

I will dance

(within and away)…