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Upon the edge of forest green,
Perchance you've walked, you may have seen,
Tiny rings of cloverleaf,
And dared not wonder what's beneath.
Well I shall tell you of a tale,
That happened neath a moon so pale,
I walked along where none could see,
By Druids font, and tall oak Tree.
The gentle tinkling of a chime,
Which sounded like an Angels rhyme,
Came drifting slowly on the breeze,
That rocked the tops of tall oak Trees.And showed a Faerie dell.
Leaves of green and berries red,
They placed a ring upon my head,
Led me in merry dance.
I did not doubt, but took my chance,
Followed on this mighty throng,
Enchanted by their simple song.
The lights were bright in tiny hands,
And I was shown into their lands.
Misty curtains I did pass,
Which rose like breath above the grass,
And there she stood divine,
In mantle like the blood red wine.
Shrouded in a haze of red
A golden crown upon her head.
Between this world and theirs
Where the man and faerie dwells.
