The faerie ghost

The faerie ghost in lonely night
Spread her wings to tippling flight
The piceous trees did not note
Nor the grounds or reason's rote

The buff berry calls she could not resist
They turned her flights to commiserate bliss
She quaffed deep - far deeper than should
And felt the effects - more compelling than good

The words and phrases grew to fold
Harrying her libido's harried mould
The trees and buildings found new lives
Cooing of their loving wives

A flower turned - whitely unmet
"Why partake in Death's unkent?"
"Death's unkent is naught to dread;
They are life - I am dead."

And for a while and a while all was well
For a while she enjoyed the lithean spell
But the flowers and the trees soon were quate
Onto the pits and things of hate

The berry called her - renewal began
"Drink my love - together again
Without me you are ghost
Without creation or sanity host."

"I mustn't," she cried, "I've had too much,
But what be must be and it must be such."
She quaffed too deep - deeper than should
And felt the effects - more compelling than good

The tints and the tones grew new hues
The stars and the sky bruited news
The faerie ghost faced the night
And flew her nest in tippling flight...