Orion the hunter, so valiant and brave,
Hung like a chandelier among the stars
Crystals twinkling as he obediently behaves.
He shines like a warrior. Bow in hand and belt strapped tight
who knows just what will happen on this fine night
He sights his prey and pulls his bow.
With every intention of starting a row
He lets go with a mighty thwap
but alas he has fallen into the trap.
Lost to his pride and to his ambition
No one is quite sure of his condition

Why orion must you stray
from the path of stars in which you stay
Why orion must you do
All the things that hurt you
Oh orion, can't you see,
you hurt not only yourself
but also
me

A pixie a nixie,
a fae all day,
To these I must say
oh me oh my, oh what am I
to do on this fine day,
this fine day in early may
with pixies in the air and nixies in the sea
the fae of the day, all around me.

"Lover boy", the unheard whisper across the pillow.
The beautiful grey eyes that draw you in
The silver toung to rival the devil himself
My lover boy
My Anarchist so clad in black
Let the world roll like water off a ducks back

My lover my angel my fae
Please stay till the break of day
Let me be awoken in your arms,
knowing that to you, there is no harm.
Please my lover boy.

Please my lover boy come back to bed
Least you fall and crack your head
Please my gorgeous angel you must understand
the responsibility falls not in your hands.

The call of the void,
The ever present touch
The ever graceful nudge
The sudden realization
The hasty correction
The resent of thought
The promise of never again.

The setting sun and rising moon
Bringing about the next day of noon
On the brisk cusp of tomorrow
Bringing not an ounce of sorrow

To the rising sun and oncoming day
What joys can I fill with your day
The wondrous and sights and sounds
Sitting on the brink of tomorrow

How can one be sad
When one always looks to tomorrow
Thinking about the beauty of the day
And thinking of days clad in plaid

To the long summer days
And brisk winter nights
Thanks to the gorgeous memories
With the promise of more on the morrow

To tomorrow
Full of promise and joy
Full of laughter and the ever beckoning ploy
The gift of tomorrow
The promise of a more promising horizon