It's sort of moonliness
And darndest late.
I slunge in dreamness
And wearyingly wait.
The sounds are echoless
All through the drift
I fly in flutter land
And twirl and spiff!
My head is hurling
And sparking stars.
I shweel and quiver
Outside of far.
Ever in circlet,
Endless in time,
Wordless in memory,
Mistrical mime!