She is The Lady.
She is courtly love.
Even if she does pull off those dissappearances,
And never repeats anything twice.
She tries to hold on to us
So we won't fall.
When we have wings we don't need that
But we do not always have wings.
Thank you.
From Angel Song by Eyal Brosh, 1999, reproduced with permission.

This is a piece of poetry I love. It is part of a much longer work that has nothing to do with me, but this tiny bit is about me and was dedicated to me by the poet with great generosity and affection.

It's a shame that I unthinkingly tarnished the beautiful gesture by making it an online nickname... Even more so because it has overtones of paganism and people tend to think I'm either a new ager or one of those sad people who like to hide behind online personae like Dominatrix or Arwen (bleurgh). More fool me - won't do it again.