Dreaming of Midsummer Night's Eve

Ah, the moonlight of midsummer night's eve wanes. I wake in the rose garden with magical images still filling my senses.

The moons rays penetrated the forest that night and illumed the faerie creatures flitting on wings, the beasts standing upright. All cavorted with men and women in gauzy, flowing robes. The musicians strummed stringed instruments luring men, women, beasts to the leafy forest floor to move in dips and flourishes, holding hands, moving in circles.

I joined the circle, imbued by the lyrical tones to graceful movement, caught in the glance of love. When the music pauses the mead cup passes from hand to hand, lip to lip. The liquid honey soothes the throat, warms the body. Hands clasp, arms encircle, lips touch. Beast entices woman, man tempts beast, woman seduces man; all tantalize and attract touched by the faerie dust of the enchanted hours. Alas, my prince left me as the moon faded and the mead cups emptied.

The images fade in the sunlight. I notice the bees have left the garden. Where have they gone, having given their all to the festivities? Perhaps they retreat to the safety of the hive exhausted by the preparation and the celebration.

I will follow their example and return to the abbey seeking its sheltering walls to replenish my spirit and find new adventures.