The fallen leaves
are gauzing thin
as they lay decaying
on the forest floor
and the frost that formed
crystal by crystal
slowly in the night
with the morning
sparkles to become
the jewels of fairies.
She is fluttering
her feminine silhouette
flirtatious against the grass
so distorted
that your eyelashes
can not catch her
but only a gleaming hint
of gossamer wings
delicate and ethereal
is reflecting in the morning's
slanting sun.
You are tempted
into probing under a leaf
with a broken twig
seeking her soft footprints
but they make no mark
on the fragile leaves
or in the softened grass
and her clandestine space
is too elusive
for your eyes.
She is hiding
veiled and disguised
carefully concealed
and you can only see
the glittering cobwebs
formed by a hungry spider
into a intricate misted mesh
catching careless flies
and morning dew.
She is fooling you
once again obscure
and her transparent laughter
like the soft spoken sound
of a faraway subtle pan-flute
is floating with your
sheer wonderings
in the waking light.