Bittersweet Revelry
Sheathed in jade green silk,
her eyes aflame,
hair cascading
like soft waves on desolate beaches,
she twirls in circles
through the graying fields of midnight.
Why are the wood nymphs feasting?
Their honey-eyes are glazed,
nimble fingers wrapped
round the rough-barked trunks
of the ancient Oak trees of the meadow.
The air is resplendent with sounds of wonder,
exploding in the night sky.
She twirls in circles,
through the moonlit fields of midnight,
past the wood nymphs’ revelry.
There are tears glistening in her almond eyes
but her head is held high,
and she twirls on through the night.
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