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The Taking
Night draws nigh and mist forms new.
Spirit come hither, dance on dew.
Rustle of feathers, wild bird cry.
He brushes her face, she releases a sigh.
Come then from no where, his touch is like fire.
Legs a tremble, tho she does not fear.
Strip of white lace on hidden briar,
ever she feels him, ever so near.
What, she wonders, comes when day then must break,
what, when her dreaming must end.
Knowing her soul, he offers hand but to take,
he beckons her, follow him in.
Into the else where, the wildwood ether,
she'll follow with step so light.
Thinking not if, thinking not whether,
she'll follow him into the night.
Eons will pass like ripples of water,
time, it's secrets won't show.
People will wonder, where went gypsy daughter,
no one ever to know.
But hear her sweet laughter when forest is near,
where he's laid her on bed so fine.
Where he's clothed her in magik, silvery sheer,
tied with silken vine.
Know that her soul is where it must be,
in hands of incredible power.
He's taken her to him and set spirit free.
Know that she's now simple flower.
Juli 02
