The rejoicing trickster reminisces On an empty canvas she draws a picture Of the convolutions of her weirder sisters The oyster opens, the clam confesses
Fix your eyes on these apparitions These wily sly imp magicians Your vision blurs and the world digresses Shifting like a play on words
Turning round and round till you solve her riddles Glory, honor, measureless esteem Killing time with the Devil's fiddle A row of pins, a hill of beans
She plays both ends against a golden middle Reason, madness, hope, and gloom In the dead of night you can't resist The promise of the twilight moon
