In the twilight of the hours
when all things unknown become known,
and all the days cares are pushed away,
shadows of the evening fall over us
as the sounds of the night fill the air.
The grass stirs with soft rustles
where the fairies wait
to come from hidden places
and dance upon the meadows.
The moonlight streams down
lights their enchanted ring,
and the soft songs of the night fill the air,
making music to lull us into sleep.
But I do not sleep now
in the twilight of the hours.
For here is where I find you
waiting in the shadows once more.
In our mystical meetings
all things become known to us.
Here we see what was and is again.
For in the shadows
our love runs open and free,
and in the twilight of the hours
we are together once more.