by
Mya McMillan
This poem also came from a picture, but I haven't been able to put it on-line. Hopefully the poem does a
pretty good job of describing itself.
Shining! Light! A fluttering of silver wings!
Dancing--a figure dancing!
On a leaf untrembling.
Music! Pipes! Pipes played unseen.
Sweet melody, wild tune
Fills the air.
Figures of light!
All around, dancing to the pipes.
Wild dances. And we are in the middle
Of the ring.
Flashes of color. Strands of hair.
A smiling face with starry alien eyes.
Sensations, sounds, and sights
Too fast to catch;
The Faery dance.
But no. They are only sunbeams.
The pipes the sounds of bird and babbling stream.
We are alone, the shifting sunlight and leaf-shadows
On the forest floor our only company.
Did we really, for an instant
Catch a glimpse of something so otherworldly?
We cannot remember. Only shadowy whisps are left,
Like something from a dream.
