Leaves crackle as she slowly steps She enters the glade, her magic she preps She listens for the sound, first soft then strong, This music is the Faerie Song
A smile creeps onto her face As she observes the spider weaving her lace This creature trims the gowns of Dryads The velvity green of summer they add
The wind blows and they bow their respect Their rustling applause goes unchecked She pauses by one revered, acient tree's heath And pats the small fawn resting beneath
On she glides, though the mists of twighlight For ahead she sees a scene so bright Dancing 'round an enchanted flame Are the Faerie people, frolicking without shame
She steps into the light and all goes still She throws back her hood that kept out the chill The Fair Folk all bow as their clothes they brush clean, "Welcome home, Fair Lady, our own gentle Queen!"