...for when the pixies sing...
of springtime flowers
and petals of varying colours
and fragrance beautiful fragrance
inhale and paint my poems with
their pixie dust
while her wings flutter and I faint
sweet incense lifting to the heavens
silencing even the angels breath
for when the pixies sing . . .
tears drip laden with emotion
hearts break and mountains tilt
and us mortals wonder if we are still alive