���������� Night Dancer
I wait in the glade of my hopes,
for the dancer who appears in the night,
As evening falls her slender figure approaches,
clad in the purple-blue of twilight,
She halts to listen to the nightingale,
then to his tune begins her mysterious dance,
Secret dancer hidden by from the eyes of men,
I see her and am left in a magical trance,
Lone damsel dancing in the night,
upon the greensward, dress of gossamer,
floats behind her as she leaps and twirls,
suspending as mist about her silvery figure,
Stars scintillate in their frosty sky,
The full moon glows upon her golden hair,
It also mirrors in her shinning eyes,
The aroma of fragrant moonflowers fills the air,
Caught in the music of enraptured dancing,
Glistening feet flit across the shadowy ground,
She is one with nature and free in the night,
An elvish song upon the air is an enchanting sound,
Silver she wafts upon the night breeze,
but the dance turns sylvan and rich,
She whirls in passion overcome with rapture,
Her fervor is such that it could bewitch,
Evening colored raiment cast off in the heat of the dance,
falls to the grass, her white body gleaming opalescent,
The dance ceases as she looks to the heavens,
white arms uplifted in praise of the firmament,
She puts forth a prayer or some ethereal power,
and shooting stars spring from her finger tips,
I lie enchanted, wondering at all I have seen,
But I am night-blinded, for there is an eclipse,
I know not who she is; a nymph, an elf, a goddess,
She is one that I can never hope to win,
But I will return and relish her dancing,
all the nights of my life; hoping she will come again,
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