There is a tale so very old
Of an ancient Fairy King
Older than the world we know
Named Ochna-amadring

He's not been seen for many years
No-one knows if he is dead
There are clues about him though
This is how the legend has been fed

He was present when King Arthur
Took the sword out of the stone
Arthur, he was special
But, could not do that alone

His magic is eternal
He rules the fairy world and more
No one knows if he is living
Or what he has in store

He lives deep in the English woods
That is what they say
It is there that he met Merlin
And Morgan Le Fay

He's lived a thousand lifetimes
Or two, nobody knows
He sailed here with the Vikings
To escape the northern snow

You see his painted magic
Every year upon the leaves
The colors ever changing
Quite a tapestry he weaves

He has many fairy children
Not as cunning or as wise
They are seen by many people
They don't hide from mortal eyes

The Fairy Elder is a legend
Is he real or just a tale
Many search to find him
And in the end, they always fail

Leave the magic for the fairies
Never ask exactly how
The fairy magic is accomplished
Shh...he may be near you now

to you, it's snoring,
but to me, it's angelic
so pure, innocent

Little insect that dwells into the dangling cocoon
Lend me your silk that is enhanced in voodoo
Look at the beautiful crystals that are above
That traps the angels and their golden harps and doves
Enhance to me your white smeared poison kiss
And I’ll be sure to melt with not even a hiss
Unravel your gown and engulf me into the silk
That’s already lost its flowers and gained its milk

There once was a Fairy
Who lived in a magical world
Her sweet name was Mary
And she loved to be held

She loved to watch the stars
Twinkle brightly at night
Even though afar
They were a great sight

She watched the dusky sun
Rise early every morning
Whilst the birds would have fun
And humans were yawning

She skipped over lakes
Making the lake waters laugh
And fishes would wake
And give Mary a jacuzzi bath

She flew with Butterflies
And Dragonflies too
They ate custard pies
And egg foo foo

She made her own dress
From red autumn leaves
She was nicknamed The Best'
By all the lovely trees

She wore spaghetti hoops
In her long golden hair
And jumped through potholes loops
To explore natures flair

She'd slide down mountains
Rainbows as well
She brewed coffee in fountains
And rang a lunch time forest bell **

Tender crimson leaves,
shade the tiny, tired fairy,
masking her flowerbed.