Fires of His Eyes

In the fires of his eyes
In whispered words so sage and wise
Under ancient forest ceiling
Feel this strange and glorious feeling
Feel the touch, the soft caress
The whispered velvet of his breath
The feel of petal soft lips to mine
And feel the touch of the silken line
That holds his charm to my breast
And now my heart knows no rest
As I sit and dream of the faerie king
His silver hair and sights unseen
Of ancient voices soft as lutes
To which we mortals are as mutes
And if I am left with naught but dreams
To live my life wondering what it means
Then when I tire of this life and die
My spirit to faerie lands will fly
To sing forever, play and run
With immortal youth;
with midnights son.