Faerie Ring

Lance Eads

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Ancient mushroom people dance
With the grace of happenstance
Ancient, youthful, wing-ed, free
To roam the mossy, midnight sea

For the air is so very damp
And the moon is there only lamp
But they don’t care
They toss their hair
And sing like happy tramps

See the sky is growing red
Mushroom children back to bed
Giggling like a laughing brook
No one sees them, no one looks

Now the air is so very crisp
And the fairies are shrouded in mist
And so they sleep
So very deep
‘Till the next call of the will-o-wisp