Airs Of Faerie

by Wacco Paul Wilson
Email caidin@mho.net


Those kindred close who venture,
upon a clear crystaled nights eve.
Seekers behold what dreamers nurture,
captured by faery dust, what spells do conceive.

At setting sun they magically appear,
born by blossom and gossamer wings.
Hushed movements, faint rustles to hear,
sweet wonders the dream spell sings.

Whispered voices breathe out in the night,
silvered chimes rejoicing this sharing time.
Flitting softness of ethereal light,
sweet airs set a spin, a delicate musical rhyme.

Soft as moon beams kissing a face,
dancing darlings swirl a twirling tryst.
Glowing embers rush in for the embrace,
delicate enfoldments as a touching of mist.

Set apart this place between now and then,
tucked away a world, second sights only see.
Just for the endowed with this magical ken,
they prance the beat young hearts keep free.

Born in faith of another time, a loving race,
childlike spirit, secrets hidden safe within.
Behold their world, this beautiful place,
gift of the Fey where their plays begin.

Fresh as cooled, summers night breeze,
in flashing glitters from an evening star.
In moonlight filtered by passing their trees,
we capture truly what dreamers we are.