Finis Coronat Opus

In distant land, where magic dwells, ‘Neath mountain river’s swell, By wizened oak and muscadine There fairies hidden thrive. When morning sunlight peeks around The shadows on the ground, And sends his rays through window panes Of dew drops, then awake The pixies, sparkling, from their sleep, And happy dreams so deep; Flit they about on glittering wings Clad in the deepest green. Many tasks the fairies have At the dawn of day;  Placing dew on spiders’ lace, And opening flowers gay. Soon the mountain vale is bright, And color meets the sight Of all who wander through those hills Where hidden pixies dwell.

Summer’s evening’s set again, Now in the twilight dim, Sit I ‘neath the twinkling lights That herald deepening night. Points of gold and white, they wink, Through the darkness bleak; Perhaps the stars in heaven’s height Find mirth in twinkling bright. A darting glint escapes my eye, But more begin to fly; The starlight cold from mantle dark Meets dancing yellow sparks. Like waltzes grand, the lights above Shine steady, leading smooth, While those below all sway and whirl, And pirouette, and twirl. So sit I thus in nightfall’s gloom That sunlight has eschewed, And witness such delightful dance The fireflies enchant.