Homage to Summer Iitrature |
The fairy dance is called at last the winds are all in place The zephyr's thrill is to the bone he's set to lead the chase Sweet fairy girl, she winks and laughs she hides behind her hands Her wings are shedding pixy dust on every spot she lands Around the lea she's on patrol lighting lightening bugs With festive festooned field alight she fills up acorn mugs The patterned dance of fairy folk is fueled by mugs of mead Made of moon drift honey and dew from thistle seed The gentle breeze moans through the reeds the cattail woodwinds blow Peepers, crickets and meadow larks will make the music flow Mariah came from way out west to lift the dancers high In star burst reels and basadons she helps the patterns fly The lord and lady of the Faire preside from thrones above Titania and Oberon accept their subjects love The dancers flair in stardust skies for this celebration Rejoicing life beyond reserve in wild exhilaration How bright the light this dawning day in this dew misted green I stretch and yawn and look around at this July scene It's not the same in light of day as in the land of nod Still hazy thoughts come dancing back while laying on the sod Remembered lights of fireflies seem to twirl and spin Surrounding ring of fairy stones that I awake within It can't be real 'twas but a dream to think ought else insane So how do I explain to me here tiny cups remain Richard Higley © June 2011 |