To dream of a faerie

The morning mist below the trees
high above the faeries knees
sky of golds, reds and pinks
matches with the faeries wings

beyond the dreams in which you see
the faeries lives exposed to thee
the truth behind their guarded moon
are shown to all who hear the tune

the sarced place, a western wood
not shown to bad, but to the good
can change the lives of all who tread
within the boundaries up ahead

the rose bush wall soon opens wide
allowing you to step inside
to see the place where few dare walk
and see the sprite, whom few dare talk

he teaches you to fly with wings
apon the clouds where faeries sings
you dance with him and drift to sleep
and awake with wings he let you keep