The West Wind whispered, “Come away.
There’s a sight to see in the woods today.”
I followed where the West Wind led,
Past nodding violets and through ferns we sped.
Over velvet moss, woodland debris,
While the West Wind beckoned and murmured to me.
T’is fairy folk, whose bid we do.
They have summoned me, as they have summoned you.”
No sooner had he said these words.
Than the West Wind left me and I heard the birds.
Sing a lullaby’s sweet refrain,
While somewhere nearby, they were calling my name.
I turned to look and then I spied,
A venerable oak that had long since died.
And near the base where it still stood.
Were hollows and nooks in its decaying wood.
In each crevice, to my surprise.
Was a sight so enchanting, I blinked my eyes.
Fairy babies filled the spaces,
Small, perfect forms with pretty little faces.
Some peering out, others asleep.
So delicate and dear, I thought I would weep.
I gaped in wonder, gazed in awe.
I was overwhelmed by the vision I saw.
The West Wind came. He called to me.
I had seen the sight I was bidden to see.
I waved goodbye and threw a kiss.
To the fairy babies. - to that realm of bliss.
I marvel still that it was me,
Summoned to view the Fairy Nursery tree.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.