I remember falling  as a child

And being lifted by a fairy-wild

She kissed my cheek and mussed my hair

And then she wasn’t there.

Some blind folk see the faeries clear

For faeries are always close or near.

Oh, better far than what we see

Are fairy wings that brush our faces

Like spiders’ webs or shimmering laces

Such magical, lovely, lonely things.

A rustle in the wind reminds us

A fairy sprite is near.

Shush! Do not scare her

She is full of fear until her night is spent

Her tears upon the pillow-scent...

The crow she sings her lullaby as harsh as harsh can be

But the golden fairy goddess makes it so lovely for me