Magick beat on the wings of a butterfly pollinating gardens
every kiss upon a flower's face left a glowing blush
dew was being basted on the blades of grass,
bees were supping of their morning tea and honey
just before the dawn of the age of man
when purple gold imbued the land

For centuries the fairy princess whose friends carved every snowflake by hand,
picked up and painted all the leaves that fell from trees
to place them back on branches so they may fall again
who were the glimmer of light in cool lakes in summer
and who scented the wind with fresh sweetness
to see people smile when they remembered...
all the life in the forests
the fairy princess and all the life in the forests
for centuries were innocent

The humans frolicked through nature naked and pure
with simple pleasures in the paradise they never asked for
firebugs kept them warm and the lightning bugs made them safe
they were joyously harmonious; one with the fae in their prancing
until on unfortunate day, a child cupped the princess in her hands
capturing the fairy during a game of chase, The Day the Forest Stopped Dancing

Awakened as if from a trance people began to build homes from the trees
make tools and take game for feasts, robed in furs
while the little girl heard the princess' pleas
in exchange for release, the fairy would grant any wish of hers
the people built a settlement, smoke from their fires overtook the scented breeze
the child brought the fairy to them, knowing she'd have to grant wishes for all the curs

In the center of town there was a stump, which soon became a cage for the princess
as she was forced to hold audience, her magick left the forest in excess
it flowed into their civilization, stone buildings, horse-drawn buggies and silk
they were nomadic and naked one day, the next herding cattle and churning milk  
in weeks the advancements were industrial, coal, steel and steam
the fairy rarely slept, sometimes granting wishes she heard in a dream
her cage was elaborate, glass, pistons, iron, steel, the works, it encompassed the stump that was its foundation
allowed little air and no privacy, her wings became weak without the freedom to fly
guards all day and all night could hear her cry

Without her magick the forest fell into disarray
idyllic no more, the animals fled from hunters and the insects were subservient to their routines, they forgot to play
generations passed, long removed from the child who caught the princess in her very hands
before the fairy was no more than a butterfly encased in resin, dug up in strange lands.