All that we wish for, we cannot command...

All that we wish for, we cannot command...

Highlands, Scotland

Conan Doyle’s Fairies.

Let us begin
When we’re caught on a whim
That remembers us
Moving through air
With open, young faces bare
To watch us go

Changes as light
Hit within our soft sight
The feeling of
moving through air with
loving compare sad
voices beware
Before we’re smiling

High as our senses falling feel
With method to our sadness
Amongst ourselves
We hit the ground below

And dying we wonder
That light from our hunger
Will follow our humours long stunned
We’ve moved to a place
No longer in moods
To chase
The luck we had when young

Still all that we offer
We cannot command
The world at our fingertips
The sky in our hand.

Ken Simm

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