Who boldly trespass in the dark of night,
leaving only etchings for me to see?
Eluding detection, hidden from sight,
truly clever intruders they must be.
Gravity to them simply does not apply,
frolicking about on my sideways pane.
Is it magic? Or perhaps they can fly?
Ah yes! Flight is the secret of their reign.
Visions of whimsy, my mind’s eye beholds.
Dancing and skating upon my window’s ice.
Seemingly boundless, thriving in the cold;
who’s impressions vanish with the new day’s light.
As I sleep, they flutter about my home.
I take solace, in that I’m not all alone.
~Hugh A Tague