When winter's wind is vanished
And the end of spring is due
When the last fawn is foaled
And the skies are silvery-blue

When corn is in the crop
And sunlight on the leaf
When gypsy-webs are woven
Suspended with belief

When rats eat up the haystacks
At night, under the gloom
An ancient pact is spoken
Under the immortal moon

A fairy ring is gathered
Inside a grove of trees
Fair Folk of the woodland
Spin plans with mirth and glee

They tease the blind old mole
By hiding away his food
And cast spells over the berries
So they will be spit out, half-chewed

But when they gather in a fairy ring-
Why, that is their liveliest time
Weaving knots with ancient dances
And chanting mystic rhymes

And then the fairy queen
With laurel-leaves in her hair
Stands under the immortal moonlight
And glistening, so fair

They make a pact of the Fair Folk
It shall not be uttered here!
A pact born of a child's smile
As the moon is mirrored on the mere

For the Fair Folk know this, and they know it well
They were born not of forest or cairn
But from of the world's few true miracles
The first smile of the face of an innocent bairn

They also know this-their fall from grace
Will come from outside the wood
For the multiple cries of disbelief
Will banish the Fair Folk for good

But the pact was heard by a farm-boy
Who, lost in the darkened trees,
Saw the light of the fairies fire
And heard their voices on the breeze

In awe, he stared unnoticed
At the fairy queen so fair
And he dared not come any closer
But they felt his scent on the air

They looked where the farm-boy stood
The firelight danced on his face!
Their magical eyes were upon him
He felt his heart begin to race

"Come closer, Liam," they whispered
Their laughs touched the skies as he came
Why was he following their voices?
And how did they know his name?

"Dance with us, Liam," they murmured
He picked up his feet right there
And started to dance with the fairy queen
Who was glistening, so fair

He danced to the farthest skies
Where day and night were the same
Stars and sun all shone at once
And still they lightly called his name

He danced over arching rainbow
The juice of the sun splashed his face!
Her hair swept the sky and her eyes caught the stars
As they twirled through time and space

He was dazed and confused when he landed
Within the fairy circle dark
The woods were catching the morning sun
As its journey through the skies embarked

Laughing, they set poor Liam free
Under the oak at the edge of the wood
They whispered merrily as they left him there
And far into the morning he stood

He suddenly came to his senses at noon
And dashed back to the village square
And told them all his fearful story
Of his nighttime dance with the queen so fair

His eyes were wild with terror and awe,
The juice of the sun had marked his face!
The villagers laughed at the foolish young boy
His master stripped him of his place

We don't believe in fairies, they said
They scorned him, and he with his clothes of grime
Remembered that the belief in Fair Folk
Was buried under Reason and Time

He was jeered at and laughed at wherever he went
They drove him out of the village too soon
He wandered, hungry for days at a time
And entered the wood under the immortal moon

Again, the fairy ring was gathered
But this time they met not for joy
For alas! their doom had been brought
By the folly of a foolish farm-boy

For every time it was uttered
The declaration of disbelief
Another fairy faded
With uncontrollable grief

They spotted Liam and they took him
He was too dangerous to be turned free!
They circled with malice around him
Under the shadowy trees

The fairy queen stepped forth
And cast upon Liam a spell
With the four elements of nature
His encounter he could no longer tell

Instead he wandered like a madman
As summer turned to fall
For those who anger the Fair Folk
Are granted no mercy at all

He cried out for a terrible nameless fear
And died there, under the trees
To this day you can hear the woebegone sound
Of his voice crying out on the breeze

The Fair Folk were soon forgotten
Yet so few of them were spared
The villagers who had cost them their lives
Neither knew of the Fair Folk nor cared

Their fairy rings-why, they gather still
Yet so small and touched with gloom
For perhaps they are not quite as immortal
As immortal as the immortal moon

------

6 September 2004