February 16, 2010

marchen


you careen
down galleries of glum wonder
your faire tripping to follow the lead

the glow that shines
from your open guise
forces these rutted bees into a habit worn
a morose rabbet of our own manufacture
our silhouette rife with divulgence

laugh for us sprite
let us peer askance at our lack
a lesser life we were granted
those of us lost of innocence yet....

can you tell us puck what you hear
when you whisper gleefully into the sparkled air
when you shout out in unabbreviated exultation
who answers the choir’s crow?

for i see your life lived
on the edge of unbalance
where no borders vast enough
can soften that onrush of the divine
wide and unguarded
a shallow crust shocked and awed

but beware nisse....ancestors may hark
and know not marvels to heed
ignorance is the majority
and sylphs are sketched...then erased
from pleasure’s diary

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