The moonlight gently beams its rays
On small doll-like dancing figures
That weave in and out, up and down
Splashing them with its soft silver.

Gentle breezes stir the leaves,
To whisper secrets unknown.
Tiny wings beat rhythmicly
Crickets chirrup in their homes.

Magical fairy music sounds
Float, almost unheard on the evening air.
Mystical figures  perform their dance
Sometimes glimpsed, but not quite there.

Where do they come from, with the dusk?
Where do they go to at the dawn?
Where is the hidden fairy dell
These magical folk call home?

Are they someone's fantasy?
Nothing tangible, they seem unreal.
Conjured up out of thin air,
Sent to hurt-or to heal?

Gossamer wings as soft as silk,
Brush my face with their motion.
A feather light touch that seems to be
A figment of my imagination.