The Fairy Flute Poem by Rose Fyleman

MY brother has a little flute

Of gold and ivory,

He found it on a summer night

Within a hollow tree.

He plays it every morning

And every afternoon,

And all the little singing-birds

Listen to the tune.

He plays it in the meadows,

And everywhere he walks

The flowers start a-nodding

And dancing on their stalks.

He plays it in the village,

And all along the street

The people stop to listen,

The music is so sweet.

And none but he can play it
And none can understand,
Because it is a fairy flute
And comes from Fairyland.