Reading by the window light
of a pale little fairy sprite,
I dreamt of worlds where fairy girls
could have their way at will:
A magic land with skies of pink
and moonless nights as black as ink,
where but to dream was but to be
and dreams were vast and deep.
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[I revised this poem on 7/14/03 to remove a contradictory image and improve punctuation as follows.
Reading by the window light,
the pale little fairy sprite
dreamt of worlds where fairy girls
could have their way at will:
A magic land with skies of pink
and moonless nights as black as ink,
where but to dream was but to be
and dreams were vast and deep.
I was still not entirely happy with the poem--why is a fairy sprite forced to dream? Was I so cynical that even fairies are unhappy in my projection of their imaginary existance? Would fairies read? After considering these questions, I made the more drastic revisions above.]