There is a place I know on the edge of madness where the wild-ones dance.
Where candle light glows and moonbeams lay across your lap.
Take your shoes off, or put them on.
Feathers and fancies, kid gloves or fairy rags, whichever you prefer.
It’s a timepiece. A pipedream. A magical place.
The moon has fallen.
There is a place of never ending possibilities.
Creative souls lay themselves out, and nothing is what it seems.
Creative souls lay themselves out, and nothing is what it seems.
Crossing over is a dream.
And although imagination is the tool for travel, the key to reality looks more like gold, a tangible object of worth.
Transportations. Transformations.
The moon has fallen, and the creatures dance on.
The door is locked. The curtain closed. The veil felled.
The mists of magic shroud the trip fantastic.
You must believe to enter.
The mists of magic shroud the trip fantastic.
You must believe to enter.
Listen closely.
You may find an invitation tucked away in some old song,
or stuck unexpectedly in your pocket.
You may find an invitation tucked away in some old song,
or stuck unexpectedly in your pocket.
The moon has fallen, and in the hungry days of Faerie, they celebrated.
They danced in grief and gladness and drank stardreams for sustenance.
“By the light of the moon!” they sang, and ran right out to get it.
Of course they dropped it, silly clowns.
And so this rag-tag band of entertainers requests your presence.
Learn their secrets, and your own.
The moon has fallen, and they need to lift it.
Levoluna.
Save the Date! March 11th 8:00-midnight
An adults only interative theaterical fundraising event.
Tickets are cheap because we want you to come
$25.00
spirits, hors d’oeuvres, vignettes, surprises
