Midsummer Revelry
At the stroke
of twelve, the witching hour
on Midsummer¹s
night, in June
all the faeries
from wood and bower
dance by the
light of the moon.
They dance
to celebrate solstice time,
the season
of the sun
they bow and
offer song and rhyme
before the
night is done.
They gather
by the hoary oak,
assemble for
the feast,
sundry types
of faerie folk,
every enchanted
beast.
Brownies and
pixies, elves and gnomes
dryads, nymphs
and sprites,
leprechauns,
imps, all leave their homes
on this eerie,
magical night.
The party
spreads Œcross hill and lawn
and faerie
children play
unicorns frolic
with tiny fauns
until the
break of day.
As dawn breaks
over the hillside
a host of
butterflies speeds;
each one stopping,
a faeries¹ ride,
they are the
faeries¹ steeds;
come to take
them home again
within the
forest, deep,
to dream about
the ways of men
as they pass
the day asleep.
So unless
you¹re out for a moonlit stroll
on the longest
day, in June
you¹ll never
see elf, sprite, imp or troll
or hear an
enchanting tune.
For magical
folk are wary
and shield
themselves from men
deep in the
wood they¹ll tarry
Œtil midsummer
comes again.
© Ellie
Maziekien
8/5/2000
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