Dance Of The Firefly by Amber V. Laniewski

Deep in the wood,
two shadows stood,
separate but not far away.
As oak's awning gleamed,
revealing sunbeams,
provoking the shadows to play.
Discarding the thought,
they crept and slunk not,
taut as the zephyr blew past.
Fellow flora thrust up,
wild hop and sweet cup,
in the woodland so wondrous and vast.
As dust vanquished,
all color vanished,
and with it the vestige of pep.
Two silhouettes arose,
to strike a new pose,
to trip the light fantastic, step by step.
Then the shadows flew high,
caressing the starlit sky,
glowing bright as they twirled up a tree.
Such a magical sight,
the two lit up the twilight,
and as they danced they were finally free.
With a quickening pace,
the dance transformed into a race,
all night scurrying through ivy and vines.
As a peach sun emerged,
and streams of light surged,
into a rose bed they sank at the base of a pine.
A misty dawn declared,
that the sun was prepared,
to exempt the shadows from their chores.
So remember this tale,
where two glittering silhouettes sail,
Whenever, wherever a firefly soars.