These words come through my hand and heart to ink and page,
As brook over stone to pay the ocean homage,
Letters flow into form, pentameter, and message,
Verses telling the tale of playing upon your stage.
Of time that has been spent, the hours, nights and days,
Where you and I and many other friends have played,
With the sun and stars, in the vineyard, trees, and hay.
On this small stage the Faye have danced and Kings have passed.,
Lovers have been found and enjoyed, lost and star-crossed,
Ships have come safe to harbor, although tempest tossed.
This soil sewn with seeds of possibilities,
Nourished with the resonance of his poetry.
Now we sprout, plunge in the Earth and stretch toward the Sky.
We have been given wings and now are free to fly.