l'envoi
i had always thought i lived in hell,
i thought it dark and cold.
i thought i knew all the pain within;
i know better now that i'm old.
for one day as i was studying,
a spirit appeared to me;
something i had never seen before,
nor thought could ever be.
a spirit of the air she was,
with eyes of fiery green;
sunbeams of reddish flame were her hair,
the like i'd never seen.
a delicately graceful butterfly,
a goddess of red and green;
she flew towards me from out of the sky,
a vision of beauty extreme.
she appeared and alit before me,
and shyly, she implored,
she wanted nothing more from me
than my body and mind and soul.
she lived withiin the woods and fields,
she did no animal harm;
all that lived beyond the pale of man
fell prey to her joyous innocent charm.
she loved to romp and frolic,
and enjoyed the storms and rain,
with wind and lightning crashing 'round her,
as she merrily danced and played.
i fell in love with the spirit,
and willingly gave to her
all that i was and am and ever could be,
because she held me with her allure.
we talked and spoke and shared the dreams
and thoughts of infinity;
we spoke to each other night and day
in terms of eternity.
day turned to night, and i fell and fell
ever deeper in love with her;
i had nothing else in mind or heart;
there was only her, 'twas sure.
my heart had been enraptured
by sylphan green and faery gold;
i never wanted to leave her side, and
with her alone grow old.
but one must always tread warily
where spirits are involved;
one never knows what might interest them next;
and you may just be disavowed.
one night i went to meet her,
as we had done for nights and days;
she never did appear to me,
and i waited alone in the haze.
for days and nights and weeks
i searched, but did not find;
i looked through hill and dale and fields and forests,
and treacherous mountainous climes.
the spirit returned to other pursuits,
losing all interest in me. . .
was it real, an illusion, a game or ploy,
or merely a fantasy?
left in doubt, i wonder;
i see nothing else but her.
my days and nights and all my life are spent
only in wanting her.
the spirit had left her mark on me,
in sylphan green and faery red;
she was as good as her promise to me,
as she took my heart and my soul and my head.
i had thought that i had lived in hell;
i know better, now that i'm old:
for i fell in love with a spirit
of emerald green and reddish gold. . .
