I had a pale vision and in it saw: two wallabies leaping o'er the moor. Under moon-glow in cloud and through shimmering puddle, they danced after dark in a soft skittish huddle. Steel-grey their coats and ecstatic their gaze, they kicked up the mud and set tussocs a'wave. Roving wallabies romp and regale in petrichor through valleys of swamp carved in days of yore. Cynocephalus sojourners skipping down-under, the left-handed guardians of the hell-gates asunder. They fly like the fairies but pester like pagans, yearning for waters to baptise them laymen ... I fell back asleep; fell back through the door; these secrets I keep of their dance on the moor.
Top marks for fitting "Cynocephalus sojourners" in a poem! This was a fun read Peter, well done. 👍