Sylph

by Karen
(MANCHESTER)

Through emerald drenched lenses,
I looked with my senses, adrift on
warm breeze, midst springs verdant filigree.

Decend into glade, were wood nymphs sunbathe,
on moss velvet throne stroke teal fairy grass,
whilst sipping sweet tea of sage alchemy, a potion
so fine as to age like good wine.

For some time I sat, watching honey bees climb, into speckled pink bells,imagine like tigers that
pounce on bold lions, massaging them gently,
and leaving them dandy.

I dropped as a bottle, far down to a stream,
and floated along within translucent green.
The ivy draped vine upwich I did climb, had led me
to meadow of flowers run wild,
so with them I played on the fresh risen field,
whilst pollen baked high beneath hot noonday sky.

Halfway into dream, it's then I did see,
a fluorecent flutter of heavenly lime.

She decided to rest close by on blue bloom,
so I then closed my eyes so as not to intrude,
she silently left me in deepest of peace,
so sacred, divine, ethereal sylph,
elating eternal my soul for all time.