My breath enfolded by the mists that float on twilight's chill,
I wake to velvet crimsons deep'ning into violet hues
that soften my harsh gaze.  The cool caress that wakes my will
makes pebbles in my flesh and takes my mood to deeper blues
in this pale moonglow. Shaking off, at last, the reverie
that trapped me, like a web, and held me staring, nightspellbound
beneath this fragile nightshade that's my daybed's canopy,
I stir and move across the verdure of my deep surround.
My steps into black shadows veer as Elder Trees arise
about my path.  Outside, the silver gleams on points of dew
collecting as pale sapphires (that their petal-hosts will prize
until the sunrise).  Onward--scents of lavender and rue 
still beckon to my senses.  Here!  The dance is nigh begun!
The Folk of Mist and Night hold court amid the Brothers Eild
who, somber in their silence, watch as sportive music's spun
on instruments that mortal man may never hear nor wield!
Too short, the night! Too soon the sky shifts onto pearly gray!
Too quickly does my drowse enfold and speed me to my bed!
Too soft, my pillow; dreams too fleet for thought to long abay...
the moss beneath the Nightshade murmurs sweet beneath my head
until the morrow's eve.