The Shadow

 
    
Debussy's faun grazes the meadow  
in the lea of the sleepy wood  
her shadow stretching in the sun  
climbing the bramble hedge disappearing in the trees  
joining elves on their toadstool chairs,  
magic in her speckled fur, free as air  
striking at the dragonfly,  
deaf to parent's anxious cries,  
following her shadow, seeking elves  
who call on pipes of siren beauty;  
dark green vaults, ethereal gothic boughs  
sensual,tempting free of wrong. . . eternal.  
The shadow fades, behind there is no trace,    
elves pull, ride upon her back,    
offer honey slaked with poppy seeds;  
forgotten the woodland lea and setting sun  
heavy limbs grow tall and dark  
echoes bounce across the trees, confuse and scare,  
the sun has set, a white skull hollow eyed  
grins through the branches,  
friendly ferns are black no shadow to point the way;  
darkest dark and wild imagination,  
eternal night, no more the friendly grass and dragonfly.  
The flattened grass where once she played  
growing as memory fades.