Once upon a waning moon a fairy came to play

She danced upon the sticks and stones where my bones lay

Her music floated

What fairies and what wood nymphs?

Not one came by my door

Never caught even a single glimpse

Of mermaids playing on the

Sparkles of light in the morning,
Is a sign that a fairy is yawning,
Spreading her wings,
She flutters and sings,
As she washes

The chemist-fay, on his tree stump table,
Had a vial of dew,
A beaker of cream, and a silver ladle.

A silver mold of a female

The Last Fairy

The fairy who lives in the lavender field
has no other fairies around.
They all moved away when the big folk