There’s a story on the island
of spirits in the night,
a special place where they go to dance
on the sand in the midnight moonlight.
You can hear them singing
and laughing
as they hide in the fog,
they play hide-n-seek and
ride the surf’s roll.
You won’t see their faces—
but they see your soul,
they watch you and hear you
as the island winds blow.
Their seaweed hair wet,
limbs swaying in the mist,
the moonlight gone,
as the sand turns cold,
they return each night,
it’s their favorite place,
well—that’s what I’m told.
Kathleen's Writings & Art 