You wild woman from the east
It's to you I pen these words aleast
from under this ancient oak
who in this city's smog and smoke,
transforms this twilight as it seems
into a pleasant evening dream.
I write to you after solemn absense
From Harper's solitude I reveal my presence
I've lived and loved and laughed this summer
And now I sense an oncoming murmur,
of shorter days and longer nights
And thoughts to reckon and quests to fight.
I'm moving now at even pace
headlong into my inner space
And delving deep into my self
The soul I seek is on my shelf.
I'm ready now for a new adventure
Of heavenly sights and cosmic pleasure
Magic happens at every moment
To me this bliss is heaven sent.