Fey Party Poem by Ryan Brodesser

The pond is still in the summer air
bugs drift softly without worry or care
upon the breeze not a current falls
as if surrounded by magical walls

A hand brushes back a leaf and 2 eyes stare
a face, a face comes out crowned in golden hair
a chorus, hidden, giving a joyful cry
and out come the fey folk, the ones who never die

the cavort wildly on the sullen mud
singing songs that intoxicate the blood
the songs are sung, the harp is strung
by nimble hands that are still young

They party and dance until the night
they party and play until dark claims the light
but tomorrow, as soon as the humans are far away
Out come natures children, the ever playful fey.