in the garden, in the park, on a bench...

Facebook l Myspace l Gallery l dA Portfolio l Watch Me l Note Me

we set the whole world on the trail of spring.
i think that every path we ever took
has marked our footprints in mysterious fire,
delicate gold that only fairies see.
when they wake up at dawn in hollow tree-trunks
and come out on the drowsy park, they look
along the empty paths and say, "oh, here
they went, and here, and here, and here!  come, see,
here is their bench, take hands and let us dance
about it in a windy ring and make
a circle round it only they can cross
when they come back again!"