Way across the meadow,
Down below the lea,
Fairy folk come tripping,
One, two, three.
Silver stars are peeping,
'Neath a Magic Moon,
Fairy bells are tinkling
On their dainty shoon.
Waiting in a ring now,
Watching for their Queen,
(She is often near us,
But seldom is she seen).
Magic flutes may pipe now,
Mab, the Queen, is here,
Dreaming daisies 'waken,
Sleepy eyes appear.
Acorn cups of nectar
Each fairy sips,
Soon they will be sleeping
On a blossom's lips.
Jackets madly twirling
With each elfin sprite,
Tiny wings a-whirling,
Wild, enchanted Night!
Dawn will soon be breaking
Through the watching sky,
Stars will sail to slumber,
Mortals must not spy!
Foot it o'er the meadow,
Fly across the lea!
Fairy folk are fading,
One, two, three.
by
Shirley Frances Winskill 1985
