the elven light of afternoon
glinting lazily between the leaves
a light beyond the daylight
sparkling the mind to sleep
a wink,
a falling off,
and then....
the high mesmeric reed
a warbling, enchanting jig
the piper stands
just behind the curtain
telling of lands half-remembered
fluting the way back to If...
their oldish eyes are merry
quaintly the gleeful ones gleam
their songs serenading the latening trees
echoing down the sleepy stream....
...awake!
the vision passed too soon
only a snatch, a glinting glimpse
on an ordinary noon
*
Steven Holland
October-November 2009
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