May the fire of your Heart smoulder among us, O Faerie,
Blessed and restorative, and inspire us to dance.

We are cynics in our jaded and bitter realism,
Our eyes are like scalpels, dissecting a Lion.

Be brave and fly o'er their weary heads, my Love,
And may your blessings rain like cosmic snow,
Like rice thrown at a wedding to sanctify the union.

May they feel your warmth, my Love, and therein see,
The crux of life; let them breathe and dream and in that truth be spirited.

Take your place in the world's interstices, my Love.
A faerie flower bending to teach a human seed,
And when the sky runs out of daytime colours,
Retire to your worship of the night's elusive spirit.