Missy Moon was sad as only Miss Moon can be. In tears she seeks to flee the nightmare of her life
We dream that moonbeams can pluck:

The calmness of flowers, the depth of moments,
The completeness of a live birth;
But white sobs slide into our ears
Telling us to forget her smile.

On the fortunate day of your first kiss,
Drunk with the all the heady scents of sadness,
Now ingrained into the DNA of the everyday
I gathered a dream into the heart of the matter,
Eyes riveted on the stranger's eyes.

His mouth moves but I hear nothing.

I see her eyes blazing with her hair just-so;
In the street she remains the mistress of horology,
But in the evening she skips the light fantastic
On a lawn where I saw a fairy cry bitter tears
For the beautiful sleep-spoiled child she had been.
She kept her eyes tightly shut and saw only
Snow white bunches of fragrant stars, snowdrops.