Two friends, two lively runaways
Skin tinted light bulb white-
A vague starched contrast to pistachio Mays

So many tides of turquoise fears
Lave rooted feet in flight unseen thus far  
In moon parade resulted earthly years
Few never landing kites are brushed against a shooting star

Wait! Now listen. There he comes.
Vein lianas pierce his pale wrists-
Pan plants steps on earthy lumps -
This straying soul the aging still resists

You may spot him in a forest
Leaving seasoned feral brae
With some berries wild in August,
Sweetening strangers' welcomed stay

"Have you seen my Darling, boys?
She wears ribbons in her hair
Darns old lovely teddy toys
Pray this life to her is fair."

"No, but say the author tells the truth
Lives your Wendy in a city
And her children know the sooth
They are little, yet so gritty"

Peter smiled :"Well, then I will bring them all
They'll attend the fairies' ball!
Now close your eyes and let us fall
If muffled in a fairy dust no harm will ever you befall

Onward, over a forgotten cave
Peter's flute in silence lays
Upward for a foggy cradle crave
Three flying figures in ablaze