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Rated: E · Poetry · Fantasy · #1124583
The anicent journey of the fairies to Avalon.
Soaring through the celestial night,
Caught on their sacred flight.

Fairy-singing and making music,
To Avalon, in the land of the mystic.

They sing praises to their King,
Dancing outside the toadstool ring,
Gold and silver the gifts they bring.

Weaving a spell in moonlit air,
As Lovers' hearts they tear,
Sharing an ancient burden they bear.

They awe Queen Titania's beauty,
Never shirking their mystic duty.

Then soar with Dragons over forest and mountain,
Resting by the mermaid fountain,
While great loot the leprechaun be countin'.

Laying flowers on Arthur's resting place,
Be they the ancient race,
In tiny bodies, great power they encase.

Sons and daughters of Angels they be,
Though terrible things they see,
Sitting by a magic pool, sipping tea.

On silvery, silken wings, Fairies fly,
While young ones cry,
From their hallowed glen, screaming, "bye, bye!"

The Mystic Festival over, Fairies disperse,
Calling out in their Gaelic verse.

For Fairy Flight be beautiful and dangerous,
Though Fairies be themselves glorious!
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