This life a theatre we may call.
Turning, twirling and singing
A theatre owned by Renald
Come closer beloveds the actor whispers
And with clouds of smoke
And wisps of light
He disappears without a sound
Out comes the dancers and the music begins
Gold pink purple and blue
And mysteries I implore
What’s there in the tallest balcony?
I strain my eyes to see
Whoosh! He takes off and circles me
Wolf killer, wolf killer he says to me softly
I open my eyes to see I’m on a roof
Wolf killer, wolf killer he says again
He is old but strong, his grip is firm but soft
I blank…
Adding your comment: