A night in fairyland....

Moonlight shines down on gossamer wings
that glides in a glade where the nightingale sings.
Shifting shadows of dark and light
hide the forest creatures from our sight.
Midnight strides across the forest and in the village's clock tower
and all too soon the moon has gone to rest in his starry bower.
Once more nightly creatures must lie down their weary heads
and go again to their soft and comfortable beds.
The moon will be out to play and all will once more be a delight
as the forest creatures come and play in his welcoming light.
The sweep of a wing and a flash of an eye
will bring the forest dwellers out into the sky.
Tinkling, merry laughter and a childish fairy sighting
are prevented by the gleam of moonlight and the trees gentle rustling.
A gentle zephyr blows the stars all around
and in the hush of the night there is no humanly sound.
All is at peace and all is at rest...
all that is except for the fairies full of glee and zest.
They will party until the cock crows the hour of dawning
and then and only then will they leave before the sun's up and yawning.
A merry race are the fairies of this celtic land;
old as time and numerous as grains of Arabian sand.
Hidden in old mountains, full of laughter and cheer,
they come out in the night time without any worry or fear.
The irish are taught to respect them and to avoid them as well
for a fairy caught is not unlike entering into the gates of hell.
A "come-hither" is worse than the curse of a witch.
Night time could see you huddled in a deep, dark ditch
afraid of the black dog or the black horse that follows you
and terrified of the lights that flicker in their eyes with a red hue.
Tales told down the centuries that are by firelight told.
Tales that make men laugh and pretend to be bold.
But...alone on the road, on the way home alone...
the fearless laughter has turned to a scared moan.
'Is that someone behind you, with his bony hand stretched out?'
'Should you turn around?' 'You should have drank that last glass of stout!'
Running faster than the wings of a dragon could fly,
you enter your home in the twinkling of an eye.
Safe and secure in your own little homestead....
you slink up the stairs and climb into your bed.
Outside the fairies are laughing and having fun.
For you the day is ending...but for them, it has just begun.