Will O’ the Wisp

One evening
I was sitting on a steep hill
Not far from the wishing well
My back leaning on the bark of an old oak tree

My eyes were dancing
Atttempting to follow
The swirl of an angry firefly
The little spot
Suddenly flew towards the moon
Also brightly lit
Challenging my eyes to a race
Up towards the white crescented satellite

The ol’ moon caught me
I was unable to look away
My body went all rigid and then shaky
A chill up and down my spine running
The ol’ moon said something
Of which to this day I cannot speak
And the firefly vanished in the dark

I finally got up
Still in shock, sweating heavy
But what the bright moon said to me
That night on the hill steep
I cannot say

Dear friend,
Of it I cannot speak
But the firefly knew what it was doing
I swear it did!