When you hear the whippoorwill
and cricket on the window sill.
When tree frogs chirp their merry song
you know then it wont be long
until the fairies play
When sunlight fades to softest hue,
and flowers bathe in dew,
and Sleepyheads in Sandman’s care
retire in magic, nightly air.
They dance and sing ‘til break of dawn.
In forests, glens, on children’s lawn,
and as the sunlight floods the hills,
their song will fade ‘til all is still.
The fairies go away.
© Jul 2011 Charles Henderson