L C Vieira
Enchantment's hour, soon elves at play with fairies full of grace,
in gowns of pink and silver, shimmering satin and fine lace.
These flutter ‘round the baby, Princess Emmy Rose asleep,
to tickle toes and pinch her nose until the wee one squeaks.
She stirs, surprised, all giggles and eyes, to find the buzz nearby,
then coos with glee again to see her nightly friends dropp by.
They visit here when hour's late, and grownups are asleep,
and spread around their golden charms and promises to keep.
Some flutter past on moonlight beams to sprinkle fairy dust
on baby's breath and dampened brow as she delights in such.
So swing the elves back to and fro 'cross curtains, lamps, and walls,
on top' the crib and past the child who smiling, jumps and falls.
Just then, all hear the footsteps from a room not far away,
and Mama's worried wondering about her child at play.
The elves to fancy fairies wink, a twinkle in their eyes,
and with a wave and wiggle, tuck in magic and goodbyes.
The footsteps stop, the knob is turned, the door slides to a crack,
and Mama's eyes move closely near, but then she stops - steps back.
No strangeness here tonight again, it must be her own dreams,
for there asleep is smiling babe, wrapped in a soft moon beam.
(2012 rewritten as best remembered after being lost for decades)
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