Midsummer Revelry

At the stroke of twelve, the witching hour

on Midsummer¹s night, in June

all the faeries from wood and bower

dance by the light of the moon.

They dance to celebrate solstice time,

the season of the sun

they bow and offer song and rhyme

before the night is done.

They gather by the hoary oak,

assemble for the feast,

sundry types of faerie folk,

every enchanted beast.

Brownies and pixies, elves and gnomes

dryads, nymphs and sprites,

leprechauns, imps, all leave their homes

on this eerie, magical night.

The party spreads Œcross hill and lawn

and faerie children play

unicorns frolic with tiny fauns

until the break of day.

As dawn breaks over the hillside

a host of butterflies speeds;

each one stopping, a faeries¹ ride,

they are the faeries¹ steeds;

come to take them home again

within the forest, deep,

to dream about the ways of men

as they pass the day asleep.

So unless you¹re out for a moonlit stroll

on the longest day, in June

you¹ll never see elf, sprite, imp or troll

or hear an enchanting tune.

For magical folk are wary

and shield themselves from men

deep in the wood they¹ll tarry

Œtil midsummer comes again.

© Ellie Maziekien


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