(At a request, this is a repeat post from a while ago.)
In the land of the fairies; yes, there IS such a place;
where wings flutter and flit through the sky.
You can frolic all day for as long as you stay,
and never a fairy asks why.
For every fairy from early is taught
to master the fine art of play.
They hone it until it’s a natural thought,
and embody it into each day.
And woven into these hours of play
are fairyland tasks to be done;
Like bathing the petals of blossoming buds;
And spreading the essence of fine fairy dust,
so it falls gently on every face
of travelers who stray or have just lost their way;
Unaware of this mystical place.
I’ve heard of the wonders this fairy dust yields,
and the magical charms it bestows.
Of the way it can feel as it soothes and it heals,
and expels and erases life’s woes.
I’m told that the touch of even one fairy’s hand
can banish a world of regret.
A touch you’ve not known, nor will again;
For one visit may be all that you get.
But while you are there they cleanse every care,
and lift you as if you could fly.
They softly embrace each soul-searching face,
and dance with the clouds in the sky.
If you find that you’ve stumbled upon this grand place,
breathe it in and absorb what you can.
For the brief time you’re there makes you ever aware;