Cirrus Minor

your eyes are imagined
from the songs of youth
every conjured vision
now made into truth

Some Cymbaline beauty
in light enveloped drape
a standing present dream
lips satin and grape

disembarked crimson shell
barefoot in the park
Verdancy every step
without worry in the dark

Moonchild wands and whistles
for the night birds
Muse of all longing
my vision interred