Fairies are not composed of all beauty and ethereal gossamer wings
That live in dark hidden glens and sing bewitching songs
It is whispered by those brave enough to roam mythical forests
You can often hear fluttering sounds
and chanting until the sunrise, bright and gold

I was said by the Gervase of Tilbury
They first resided in England its territory being large
Flew across the channel and settled quite nicely in Killarney
Upon hearing the legends of the splendid Irish lands
Abandoning the grand queen with little or no regard

The Grianán Ailigh in Ulster
Is a fine example of their magical craft and sharp wit
Once a foolish old man disregarded the tales of the pixies
And sank into the ground as it yawned before him
Nevermore to be seen again

Across the island of lush ferns
Lie the Ring of the Rath on the Wicklow/ Carlow border
Heavy with dew lace-edged plants and jade green,
It is said by those brave enough to breach the wildwoods
Careful not to look straight in a fairies eyes
For it may be mischief, not favor they bring

Fairies and pixies flew throughout the cerulean and gold meadows of Ireland
The Hill of Tara where the king Brian Boru spent his time
While some could not do without the butterworts that grew in the bogs and shade
Savoring and smelling wild thyme in the gloaming of a day
Still, others preferred the sweet rambling columbine

So, if upon the rainy dawn of an Irish gray morn
You walk through a circle of shamrock
Do not tarry flee in haste
Perhaps your soul still may be saved
If not, you will be one of the many foolish humans
Now imprisoned in a fairy ring

All Rights Reserved @ Tammy M Darby March 13, 2020
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