There are no such things as fairy god mothers. There is no such thing as the man on the moon.

Did you ever think there was? Did you ever hope there was?

I did.

For all those times that I was the maiden in the garden, weeping for lost faith in love, my fairy god mother never came to wipe my tears away.

For all those nights I bathed in moonlight and tears, the man on the moon just smiled.

I'm a sad soul now, yearning for the light heart I once had as a youth. When all I believed in was love.

I can't remember who I was then. Did I have dreams? Did I have cares?

I believed in princes and princesses. I believed in fairy tale endings and I believed if I kept my faith, my fairy tale would come true.

I've become more cynical about love since then. My mind is warped and my heart wounded from the pounding of heavy footsteps wandering away.

A flicker of my youthful faith remains- a tiny spark of those fairy tale dreams of love.

I'm lost and I'm wandering into the blue sparks of the night sky and I'm dreaming a reality . . . waiting for the call of the moon.