There in the woodland Darkening fair, Flitting about with sleight of hand. Now you see them. Now you don't. For if faeries Don't want mortals to see them, Mortals won't! Frolicking there over rock And rill. Ever the tempestuous, Untamed woodland sprites still, Abiding merriment, Sporting playful will... Mid antics mesmerizing, With scarce any accountability Mysteriously fascinating, Without care flitting, Darting hither and there, With ribbons streaming, Everywhere, Flounces flippantly flying... Dangling jauntily debonair. Making impassioned reason stare. Weaving presence magical, Whispered softly in a dream Enchanted presences phenomenal... Some as small as flowers seem. Some as I as tall... Faeryfolk one and all. If thou wilt but listen, Quiet and still, Ye twill hear that mystical being. In sweetest rapture Lilting faery songs sing... |