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.