Gold green fog softly lights the glade,
Early morning darkness starting to fade.
Green grass sparkles with morning dew.
Soft bird chirps herald day's debue.
Spectral arms grab at misty air,
Branches of trees clutching to share
The shimmering light of gold green fog
Elusive and swirling as it hides their claws.
Tis a moment for the faires and wee little folk
To dance in the glade next to the oak
As they sip at the dew found on the grass
That moves aside while the folk dance.
In gold green fog lighting the glade
As early morning darkness starts to fade.
DANCE OF THE