The Sprite Song
By the back of the slumbering white sky
Suspended among turning wisps of space
His face turns to mine, askance and awry
My gaze reflects fear, but his, just grace
His eyes are deep violet and they glitter
Like a sprite's ensconced in a secret game
My blood is pumping, my hearts a-flitter
Before I can speak he requests my name
Meanwhile I drape my hand in my curls
The stubble on his chin is gold and shines
In air I draw letters with dashes and swirls
'That's not the right name', he reading, opines
Names, he declares, are everything that's wrong
'But stay here sweet girl, I'll name you a song.'
No comments:
Post a Comment