Ebbins Moor Poem by Steve Howard

Have you ever been to Ebbins moor,
as the moon arcs through the sky,
the wee folk dance beneath the stars,
with the sea strand there hard by?
Have you ever been to Ebbins moor,
neath a dark and roiling sky,
as the witch wind moans in the heather,
and you hear the banshee cry?
Have you ever been to Ebbins moor,
neath a bleak and brittle sky,
as the white mist ghosts across the land,
and the unseen about you sigh?
Do not go to Ebbins moor,
but it be noonday not alone,
lest the Fae at last reveal themselves,
and claim you for their own.