faerie of unseen streams,
sprite plagued by early night,
pixie of sharp-toothed dreams,
locked-gaze tail-tip flips,
voice sipping from the english well,
words tripping out like bells
collected, minted, sprinted
trading tacts as needs require,
trading lute for sword, shield for lyre,
from gold glint of red hair
from freckles on face fair
and from behind the shadows of her eyes.
so all the world can hear,
all but the singer's bearer
the nimble wide-eyed faerie
lest it scorch her,
her own light bends around her eyes
lest it blind her,
her own voice sounds to her a stranger
lest it shake her,
for new stories to anticipate and to remember
for her collection,
the sort that coos
struts preens her
perched on shoulder
one to whisper secrets in the dark,
another funhouse mirror mask
another voice in the chromatic chorus
another tap root reaching down
another bond to warm strong earth
grinning daemon in her bag
delighting in my daemon role,
shyly out up upon her face
then flee to hidden darkness
to daemon desires sate
and whether it ended win or fail
back to tell the winking tale
told for mischief or for moral
told with pride or with chagrin
told for a chide or for a grin
told to stretch time or remember
told to feed the burning ember.
fire faerie fliss
curses falcon with delight when missed,
blight her light air temperament
stalk her real day, and night dream.
kisses them misses them
worships their blazing agonies
mask incomplete against outward sorrow
still ever watchful of shadow's morrow
ever preyed by sharp-toothed jaws
out-stretched claws
hooked beak maws,
she flees her world, takes flight
to seek sun amidst her night
to glowing worlds of ease and limes
shiny new with scarce the scars of time
and there arrives still weary still alert,
to sound and memory pointed ears still perk,
worlds apart, yet finds there too shadows lurk
shadows the deeper for sun the brighter.
vivid reminders of the great unlit fire
pyre ensconced by distance and time
pyre unlit by burning ember mine
looking out across
the wide white ring,
scrunched-face tongues out
:P :P
in the new strange flying way,
separated by glass,
lost across worlds
am i not a sufficient muse, you ask
when heart's at cross with mind
noon-time lightning dreams drift by
red-haired white pixie fury-lit sky
baby cries, hair flies
lip bears, hair tears
baby lies, tree sighs
kind familiar aches
dry mineral taste
(stone ever flakes),
in the new strange flying way,
separated by glass,
lost across worlds
am i not a sufficient muse, you ask
looking out across
the wide blazing magic ring,
scrunched-face tongues out
:P :P
that urges me write to the english dawn,
it is the pink of our outstretched tongues
that makes me smile that wry smile
how sprites sprint spinningly
why pixies sip the bitterblossom
why faeries flit between worlds,
it's above us winking,
hair ever flying
bells ever ringing
plump pink raspberries ever singing