Flutterby

Within a glen of silver hue,

Where moonlight kissed the drifting dew,

A fairy wept beside a rose—

Its petals pale, its heart half-closed.

 

Once she spun dawn from laughter’s thread,

And woke the world from dreams long dead;

But mortals ceased to call her near—

Their faith dissolved, she disappeared.

 

Her wings grew dim, her voice grew small,

Till silence wrapped her, wings and all.

Yet where her tears in sorrow fell,

The stars were born—to break the spell.

 

Now when the wind sighs through the trees,

Her name still shimmers on the breeze.

Done