River Beings

See them gesture in dance as weary souls
in a water flow rhythm and enchanting beauty.

Once a moon lit the surface of their water,
a mirror of sheen black with streaks of silver
and the night sky lived in a luminous joy.

In their misty translucency, they hoard, beneath,
world minerals, rubies, diamonds and pearls.
Keeping a watery heaven.

The river runs in the melody of their names;
Chimes, chimes and chimes.

The Magic Children

Children bathed in glitter, laughter; the human good,

with bare feet that pounced and drummed to raise the dust from its ground.

The cheer of the wind so free and the happiness of an untainted sunlight.

Between the rapture of the earth meeting the day, they floated,

eyes shut in complete exuberance, tongues gagging in uncontrollable laughter,

paying no mind the bruises on their elbows and knees,

their reddened flea bites and empty bellies.

The cracked wand drops to break and the magic, abruptly, dies.

At once they turn into beautiful, colourful butterflies

that scatter atop and leave me empty skies.