Jeanne Berger Poet Rhyme

The Night of the New Moon

On the very darkest night;
The absence of reflected light.
When  mortals are asleep in bed;
Mythical creatures begin to tread.
Among the dark and ancient trees,
Only the skillful ever sees.
The tiny fairies begin to dance,
Among their favored trees they prance.
Water sprites jump and play,
Out  from the river where they stay.
Leprechauns hide their gold,
That they’ve kept since days of old.
Pixies have the only light,
Their tiny lanterns burning bright.
Elves are busy choosing sticks,
Used to build instead of bricks .
Dwarves are seeking the best stone,
A useful tool they will hone.
The gnomes their with faces droll,
Venture from the grassy knoll.
Beneath the trees they plant the seeds,
Of all the good and noxious weeds.
The little imps are always there,
Making clothes of leaves to wear.
Goblins with their wicked curses,
Try to steal the fairie’s purses.
Trolls beneath the bridges hide,
They carry swords at their side. 
Mighty dragons have taken flight,
Eerie wings against the night.
In the thicket, the enchanted unicorn,
In the cover of darkness its foal is born.
In the absence of reflected light,
At the darkest part of night.
On  night of the new moon,
These creatures caste a magical rune
Through the years the lore of old,
Became the story forever told.






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