DEATH of DAPHNE. (1997.)

Our faces freshly washed, when the nursery brush
had rushed to fluff our rumpled heads of hair,
the fairy castle then opened for its evening dazzle
in a razzmatazz to your adult world entrusted
You astral-gazed with entrenched unquenching zest
the next foreseen literary lottery slot,
with spot-on empathy and ebullient gusto, gushing
the hushed magic of your reincarnate icons.
Striking the gestures of revered legendary giants
you tried the rides on offer from coteries abroad,
awarding each triumphal passage to the sound
of your bounding bounce in resilient entertainment.

We grieve that you whose rapture floated free
should now display our frail mortality.