In the heat of the night

so direct in its simplicity,

the virgin in the bright red dress,

conceals nothing from our sight.

At the crack of dawn, the night slides.

Myriad images, stored in memory,

archetypes, old and new,

dance before the eye of the mind.

With instincts so honed and ...sharp and ever ready,

 like the Prince ...beneath the stormy lake.

In simplicity of the spirit of giving,

 and in the humility of receiving the creativity wll dawn.

Beneath the lake the mermaids sleep,

by the night they rise and take away the bounty

and return where they belong.

and ever longing to belong, at last, at once...forever.