The Fae

In a September night of dreaming,

When gnarled old trees had stilled,

Their wise old branches stalling,

Their minds, with spring time, filled.

It is then that they come out,

For it is now that they are free,

When dusk has set and dawn yet comes,

They leave a hidden sanctuary.

Dancing as they meet again,

They glitter like the silver stars,

Joyful in their nightly jaunt,

They cry aloud hoorahs.

While soon they will all have to leave,

Right now they fail to sleep,

For moments lived are not forgot,

But remembered to love and keep.

Cool air flows through their hair,

Left long in blissful fashion,

Their wings they leave to flutter,

As coloured as their passion.

But too soon there comes a warning,

A lightening of the sky,

When bell-birds start their trills,

And night birds cease to fly.

As they turn to leave this place,

They whisper last goodbyes,

Night cannot come soon enough,

To return their merry times.

All too soon their presence leaves,

And daytime lights that place,

Where once winged creatures danced,

To harps that kept apace.

But now the willows twist and yawn,

Stretching their good mornings,

Never knowing what goes on,

Just before their dawnings.