Fae's Morning Song

At the edge of town
lies a wooded grove
where tree branches shade
a fern covered cove.
And in amongst
the leafy green,
there dwell the faes,
so seldom seen.

If silent you creep
as morning light breaks
you might spot a fae
the moment she wakes.
From underneath
ferns wet with dew
she may emerge,
not seeing you.

Cascading dew drops,
a showering splash,
bathe the wee fae
in a blue-green flash.
Shimmering light
plays on her wings,
spread in the sun
to dry as she sings.

Her voice like a bell,
a tinkling wind chime,
that floats on a breeze
and jingles through time.
Listen to hear
sweet song of the fae,
then quietly turn
and slip soft away.

© Katharine L. Sparrow