In dark of night,
When moon is bright,
We come out of our bowers.

In the deep,
While all things sleep,
We dance among the flowers.

Take us not,
For things forgot,
We are still here ever-after.

As a wave upon the shore,
We shall not vanish ever-more,
You shall always hear our laughter.

In darkening gloam,
It is we roam,
The wind whispers of our passing.

The rustling leaves,
Upon the trees,
Are echoes of our massing.

Come light of day,
Asleep we'll lay,
And wait for moonbeams prancing.

Then once again,
Our finery in,
We shall come out for dancing.

01/08/00

© Tyranny

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