I
Once Was A Faerie
I once was a faerie, roaming the wild wood, flitting from leaf to leaf.
Watching the dew form crystal globes of murky colors along the spiders web.
The wind whispered upon my ear the faint call of winter but surrounded by the
green of summer high I refused to answer.
I conversed with the wise old owl and asked why he wore feathers of white
and sat askew the unicorns back and seen the magic horn glimmer.
Clouds floated across the sky=s golden eye that looks down a great distance
watching aspy all that the wee folk do.
A tickling breeze caressed upon my skin, raising rows of goose flesh begging,
let fly, through the sky on gossamer wings.
Circling round and landing in a ring perfectly enchanted, arose a
hunger for strange worlds yet not envisioned.
The gray mouse scurrying by, stops and shares in a sip of
honeysuckle nectar . Then cleans his whiskers and runs to his nightly errands.
A tree doth speak revealing wonders that lie in the moors.
So there I soar and the mist surrounds me like a cloak.
I prompt the flowers to bloom, adorning them in glorious gowns,
and the Elfin folk march by in leather armor as if returning from war.
Behind the veil at the edge of the earth the moon hides his shy face,
the brilliant sun chasseing him in his retreat.
So time goes by in it=s endless dance while bagpipes play in the distance,
and of myself, I once was a faerie, but now I am awake.
