The Faeries
As the night fell on Whippers Mill,
The wind died down, the trees were still.
The moonlight shone through the autumn cloud,
Into my window, like a vision of now.
Faeries with dust of purple and gold,
Synchronizing with the night's peaceful unfold,
Dancing softly in my dreams until dawn's break,
The cares of the day they had come to take.
Julie Hill
Copyright ©2000 Julie Hill