Sunday, May 13, 2012

The Fairies

Robert Anning Bell, via Wikimedia Commons

They travel in air,
their wings like glass,
you won't see one
as you pass through the grass.
From the meadows they rise
and enter the skies
watching for treasure below
(take care where you go).
To fairies' glens be gentle and kind
listen to all the strange music you find.
                                                                  And don't loose your money--
                                                                 they use dimes and nickels for tiny round doors
                                                                 and they'll fold up the bills for a rug on their floors.

1 comment:

Liz Brennan said...

Lovely - and I enjoy how the poem ends!