Come and frolick in the wild gardens of night,
to the recesses of my Stygian mind.
Dance with me under the yellow crook of the moon,
take my hand and wade with me, and let your chin dip
down into the welcoming black waters.
Let the scent of honeysuckle enrich the air,
and alleviate all of your earthly pains.
It's a fairytale land, and we can dress up
as its immortal kings and queens.
We've had no company, my friends and I,
no friends, no lovers, so you're our first!
By tree limb to tree limb do they and I leap,
no more than a flash of fawn fur,
gleaming under a sickly canvas of light.
Some of the creatures are giddy,
some unfriendly and sad, others cheerful.
Look, one ambles over now! Here,
stick out your hand. Feel her wet nose.
Aw! She's taken a liking to you.
And her eyes, how dashing they are;
they glitter like pole stars and twinkling lights.
I really hope you stay for another hour,
or for a sweet rest under these gnarled trees.
I welcome you all the time;
so, come again to our budding gardens,
and help me plant these little flowers of mine.