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|internet marketing, surfing, writing poetry, sci-fi shows, 50's & 60's music, playing rpgs, reading, walking|
The Dance of the Unicorns
As I entered the clearing that moonlit night
My eyes beheld a wondrous sight.
White as sparkling snow and with shimmering horns
Were thirteen dazzling unicorns.
The moonlight filtered downwards through the jet sky,
Enchanting the creatures, with their horns held high.
I quietly moved and sat on the ground,
Afraid to breathe or make a sound
In case I disturbed the frolicking games
Of those magical, whimsical sires and dames.
As I drank in the sight, my wonder tripled,
Held spellbound by the way that their muscles rippled
In their sinewous bodies and mighty limbs,
Their horns keeping time to unsung hymns
Of joy and laughter, life and love --
And bounty from within, instead of above,
Then from behind me came such a fearsome sound
That I tore my gaze away and looked all around.
I peered through the trees, but nought could I see
But the surrounding forest, strong and free.
Then I let out a cry, my heart so forlorn;
For vanished were my beautiful, sweet unicorns!
I cannot forget them -- would not if I could.
They are etched on my memory, as if burnt into wood.
In my dreams every night, the scene is reborn --
And there dance my thirteen gay unicorns.
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