Night of Fairies

This poem was inspired by the picture displayed by an old friend of mine in MSN. It depicts a black and white woman-like fairy standing by a crescent moon. Her wings pointing down, she has been worn out by desire, longing for a long lost world of magical scapes; where dreams and reality make only one irrevocable truth...Let me give you, dear fairy, a tale of old.

Night of Fairies

Misty forests in water torn

-in dreamscapes dancing a moon-lit horn-

by that wave we dare not linger by,

in a mystic garden full of light.

There, where the palest faces of the world

grow fiery wings and limbs of gold,

a star descends upon the crown

of ages, down and down

and lay upon the spirit's head

of a lonely fairy full of dread

-(and that ethereal rain of dawn

may be the only woman's own)-

for in the end this night shall be

a shiny fortress by the sea

where nothing's lonely anymore

and sand is diamonds by the shore

(all daily trances there converge

in life and death, the perfect edge)

-again she dares the magic flight

amidst the passion of the night,

in the dreams of joy to be

a shiny fortress by the sea.