Fair

The woman is as clear

as a bell

a dark shadow of a bell

but she rings true

and with a delightful 

elfin music

so I wonder why

you don’t sweep her 

up in your arms

with that white-gold hair

falling about you

and carry her off.

I know she has troubles

she has been 

trawling through the shadowlands 

and those inky fingers

have left traces across

her delicate whiteness

she’s been wounded 

again and again

but aren’t you just the man

to fix that

good with your hands

as you are.

I’m good at giving 

bad advice and I’m not just 

a romantic 

I live in a fantasy 

but I know when the music 

sounds fair 

and when it has been corrupted 

because I have perfect pitch 

and I have studied 

for years 

with some of the best

teachers.