There’s a sort of mischief in the night Where breezes blow, And tickle our imaginations: There might be monsters under our beds, Or fairies tapping on windows, But with this night, Comes a peculiar scratch on my car, That wasn’t there before. Perhaps it is…

There in the fields, with her long Black flowing hair Resides the StarGazer Twirling round and round. She leaps with her long legs She spins in spirals too She smiles and laughs. When the moon is full, she Frolics like a young fawn Enjoying its…