What have we here
in this tempest so fair.
A cloudless arena,
a maiden's sweet lair.
A wicked enticement,
no innocent grasp.
The lure of illusion
to not be surpassed.
A mist filled with visions
of rainbows sans end.
The crystal reflection,
light bent to unbend.
Dreams woven to hold you
to capture and mold you.
Reality spinning,
to release and unfold you.
Kathleen Kaderka
1997
