To See Her Fly Poem by Andrew David Dalby

I would give my all to see her fly.
Her beautiful, unhindered spirit;
is fueled with longing dreams.
of total free, unfettered flight;
Of whispered sighs,
from gentle sprites;
who warm the growing twilight;
and its ever bitter breeze.
I glimpse her slowly spiral;
It lifts her from the coming storm.
and upbraids her fibrous petal wing;
to keep herself free,
from the Ice-wraiths glee.
And those heavy nightmare bells
that seem to ring for evermore.

oh...To reach out and to touch her;
To free myself from this aching form.
To rise high with her pure divinity;
then to fall, to gently rest,
Near foetal on her chest.
To touch to stroke to stoke to feel;
To curl to twist to thrum.
to float amongst the crystal spires,
and then so deftly plunge.
To fly upon those pure fuelled fires;
That shine... so beautiful, so bright,
so full of delicious purposeful light.
And then to rest, tired, spent, content
Rested… upon a settled earth.
Oh Christ... to see her fly, divine!