04.01.2005
All is still in the stygian night
The welkin above is dark
When midst the stars that burn so bright
I glimpse an emerald spark.
Then another glimmer, another glint
Till at last a shimmering show
Lights the air with an eerie hint,
A mysterious and ghostly glow.
In a winking waltz, in a silent song
They swirl, all silvery green,
Among the slumbering leaves they throng
Betwixt the trees they’re seen.
Through the woodland and over the lake
They sail in glittering streams,
Pulsating lights, they leave in their wake
A world immersed in dreams.
So oft when fades the light of day
And a crescent moon does rise,
I quietly sit and await the play
Of the flickering fireflies.
