Warning fair...
We revel in this glade until the dawn
and sing our chants of blessing on the Wood
and then, with but the grass to lie upon
we shelter from the sun 'neath nightshade's hood.
The mists of morning make our lullabyes
and soothe away the flush of fevered play.
The dew-drops slake our thirst and cleanse our eyes
and rest us through the harsh, hot haze of day.
The folk of song are we, the folk of night:
Come! Witness our bright festival, but 'ware...
some magics are not meant for mortal sight
and eyes that see are seldom left to share!
But come, brave mortal souls who lack in faith...
the Wood would suffer not, for one more wraith!
(c)2001 by eric lee
We revel in this glade until the dawn
and sing our chants of blessing on the Wood
and then, with but the grass to lie upon
we shelter from the sun 'neath nightshade's hood.
The mists of morning make our lullabyes
and soothe away the flush of fevered play.
The dew-drops slake our thirst and cleanse our eyes
and rest us through the harsh, hot haze of day.
The folk of song are we, the folk of night:
Come! Witness our bright festival, but 'ware...
some magics are not meant for mortal sight
and eyes that see are seldom left to share!
But come, brave mortal souls who lack in faith...
the Wood would suffer not, for one more wraith!
(c)2001 by eric lee
Okay, I'm blatantly mercenary! Please check out my new novel, The Storms of Summer, at amazon.com

