Faeries of the Greer

A wee trite tale.

Hear the sounds like tip toes?
It goes round about the “Hoots of Aspen”
Twith torn and tatter twos

 

If you look to coming nightfall
Shadows short, but spry beneath the moon
And you'll see a crop of perked and pointed ears

 

And be betwixt a tough, but very ancient
Crackle bearded fool for Elfin
Searching vain for all his stolen years

 

A twitch of warted nose tells him he's very close
Somewhere hidden in "Trees of Trunken"
By warriors, “Faeries of the Greer”

 

And if he surely finds them
Then, there will be some hell to pay
For of the magic within his spell book

 

He’ll turn the nights to ever days
And the pixy wings again shall never sleep
Thus weary, the dark ones will forever reign

 

So if you spy a silent lightening bug
Underneath silver and raven skies
Please, you must never ever think to trap…

 

What seems more likely to be a firefly
Or the grimly clever elfin will swiftly climb
Your limbs upon attack!

 

To know exactly where they’re at!