Spreading arms wide.
Laying flat upon the ground,
switling wind hovers above,
whistling. Making Puck musicals,
wood flutes play the trees.
Slowly adjusting to the timing.
Succumbing, rhythms
to feel the earth listening beneath,
evening from day beckons.
The motion of silvered time
weaves limitless folklore
over distance and moonlit dappled
azure lakes, charms to the winds.
Peering with youthful wonder
into the sapphire stars, one night
the guardian to deliver dusk
as elfin beauty sung within.
