April 1, 2014
Do you remember when we saw them
swimming through the vales?
A sea of green and white twisting
through brown columns and softly trodden trails.
We laughed that the fairies
might treat those lilies as cups from which to drink
and joked such beauty would not be seen again
till we arrived at heaven’s brink.
You must have thought it was a race
to again wonder at the world of faerie.
I failed to find you again in dew-beams delusions,
for my mood so swiftly varied.
But I’ve decided now to leave for you
through this envenomed drink.
Those lilies now will mourn our deaths;
I’ll meet you at the brink.