coloured flames and fireflies dance mischievously around our heads

to the tiny trumpetsong of bees Joyous songs of love lulling all in revery yet silent to

mere mortals as We only hear the hush of whispered sighs stood beneath the dappled canopy of  

ancient fair oak spread As sweet twilight greets us again swathing our Ianthe in milky moonlight

as she rests upon a dew jewelled knoll still dreaming of fae Unaware of the cold (or the warmth

you hold in your heart for her) She smiles as you cover her shoulders with a elven~made

blanket of gossamer wisp whilst estivating toads blink wide in the coolness of hidden
mossy beds                         Gently,
sweep the                 droplet
                         of Au            from her eye, Deva,
  as we cough etheric      dust from our lungs,
sparkles    floating
in the paper-
            lantern light              
scattering across
the midnight sky,
illuminating fates,
as those fire-flies hearts
twinkle like falling stars unseen