On Impulse
A light shimmering,
small fae glittering
standing there glistening.
A mystique figure sparkling.
The risers as a staircase
from Mount Olympus.
Descending it with such grace
of the god Janus.
Afraid to take thy hand
Too shy to take a stand.
Alas nothing was planned,
perhaps this'll be grand?
When darkness enclosed
you woke up the sun.
My author dream disclosed,
you smiled as a cinnamon bun.
Treading forth with drear
Knowing the future is near,
holding your hand dispels fear.
There you stand glistening,
your comfort I embrace.
As you do calculations - glittering,
I reach for my bookcase.
Floating as a nimbus
waiting for the tempus
you hold me dear on impulse.