My Spirit Sings: The land that knows no ills

The land that knows no ills

One evening near the woodlands edge when all around were slipping into peaceful sleep,

I watched the tiny creatures of the night, from all their little burrows start to peep.

A bat, not long arisen from his bed, with sleepy ears, had almost touched my head,

As I wandered through the wonderland where day and night are wed.

At the turning of the light, when brother sun bows low to sister night,

My eyes were filled with awe and admiration at a most amazing sight.

There beneath the drooping branches of the woodland trees,

I saw the fairies trooping, with their banners waving in the gentle breeze.

Tiny horses galloped by on silver hooves that glittered underneath the moonlit sky;

With lances high the banners fly as rows of faeries, spur their horses on and fly.

A touch of medieval etiquette as queenly faeries follow on, bedecked in jewels and the whitest lace,

Yet not a sprite looked back to see the light of pure enchantment shining on my upturned face.

How I longed to fly out west with you, to where the sky was turning into deepest, darkest blue.

I longed to see that land beneath the setting sun that lies within the kingdom of the ever-young.

Now I walk these woods each evening, as the sun begins to slip between the purple hills,

In hope that you will once again return, and take me with you to that sacred place that knows no ills.

My Spirit Sings