Images of Us
Images of Friends
Gallery by Glas
So soft the wood, and quiet zephyr-path
As through the trees it winds its windy way
To brush the hair, or softly trace the lips
And wander on, no longer here to stay.
Olympus Mons reigns on the world as well
As those beyond, and sees the worlds between
But never understands.
It is the Way of Things. Come and see with me
The Muse of choral dance -
Terpsichore - can be a fickle lass.
And if no dancers heed
Her call but one, She is a goddess still,
And Musing, crafts a dreaming partner.