the brilliance of her eyes
there is nonsense in her reasoning
often mistaken as a mistletoe
on a cool summer’s eve
she sparkles like champagne
on the rarest of nights
a warm sky lit up in the countryside
as the townsfolk fall fast asleep
unknowing what they are missing
except through their dreaming
out in the fields she dances all alone
the wind light & airy
at play with the rhythm of the music
swaying through the trees
contributing to her mysteries
that of a forgotten night
and the brilliance of her eyes
february two thousand twenty-five
copyright j matthew waters
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