THE FAIRY MOUNT
Where did the little go, from ages of long ago?
Myth or legends stories unique, these small little creatures,
That beneath the evergreen?
Underneath the mossy sheave, tucked in pockets near
Toad stools rings, tiny shadows do so sneak quickly
Tip toeing ever lightly trying not to be seen.
But hidden deep in the Irish country side the
Locals say they still come out at night to play,
These wondrous beings from mythical lore.
In the stillness of the first breath of night,
Something ethereal stirs, it whispers in the
Darkness a quickening, a rustling, the winds
Tickling at the branches, as if coaxing.
Come out, come out, will thee not play tonight?
Low laughterious voices ring from under the thickets
Over grown hedge, at the very edge of a large boulder stone,
Be patient here we come.
The ground thus shakes at that instant, rumbling the
Very earth groans with amazement, what ancient enchantments
Mystical spell unravels expelling a magical incantation of old,
As the fairy mount rises upwardly, voices ring through
The forest pines.
Here tiny trumpets announcing the Fairy Queens arrival,
Dressed in Golden gown, with dragon fly wings of grace,
A sparkling crown adorns her majesty, as she takes her
Throne of ivory white.
Gnome footman dressed in red and green vestments,
Open wide the doors at the fairy mount entrance,
Allowing the supernatural beings living within to go forth,
Beautiful Fairies, mischievous pixies, and yes even Leprecons.
Singing and dancing until the first light of dawn,
Did the residents of the fairy mount play, drinking, celebrating
Until not a drop of honey wine was left to be drunk, or mead
Then the Queen grew tired, and order the retreat to the
Trumpeters to play, down below they all marched, until
All were safely within their fortress of hidden secrets,
Then down did the fairy mount vanish, as if just a sweet
But maybe some night you’ll stumble by accident,
Upon them again, and they’ll let you play along,
Mortal outlander until then all we poets can do is dream.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN