Wings
Where doth the each love cries?
With inspired many feathered dreams
Alone with sheltered goddess
Whist hence my love shares?
My finest hour come to thee, my faerie
In the twilight he comes to me
She awaits in childlike eyes in yesteryears
Thy wings sigh, I am wee child
Tiny little stems brightens the nigh
Tis morn has come, to no more weep
Winter flutters about Irish moors
Flowing in and out carrying orbs
Intent to be cast lost ones heart
Visions opened in misty secret garden
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