By Jan Harmon
words and music © 1989
1. Once upon a time, I caught a glimpse of April
like a spear of sunlight on a January morning.
I closed myself, as petals, but the light un-closed me
there so deep in darkness.
2. Nothing, even starlight, has such tiny fingers.
Stones reach out and whisper to each other without warning.
And, nothing, even wisdom, is as kind as roses,
or so rare and reckless.
So, sleep my dearie, 'neath the dreamhorse hooves.
I will give you, in a wreath of leaves,
Bedtime stories, .. wishes, tossed
like flashing pennies