Stories are told of the Wee Folk of old who still run Through the forests, misty hills, and deep vales, A world within a world rarely seen and stays hidden Beyond the veil, between the shadows, Where the shimmering light plays forbidden. Listen closely, can you hear the whisper and song most clear? Close your eyes, can you see through the shadow and trees That mystic land of which the good minstrel sings? You can visit this land of song, myth, and lore That hides within the shimmer, If you can see beyond sight, and hear with your heart, Most welcomed you'll be to join in and take part In the mischief and merry delight. And upon the dappled ground a ring can still be found Where the Wee Folk danced and played, forever and a day. 2015 ~Koneta
Category: Poems