creep up the serene sky as the earth succumbs
to twilight. Balmy breezes blow, and a
smattering of stars peek through the onset of
eventide. This is what dreams are made of.
Faeries lurk in their tiny homes waiting
for their rendezvous. Moonlight peers out from
above the sunset. Tall grasses wave
their greeting to the luminous orb as he smiles
down on them. Flowers lift up their essence as
a sweet offering of hospitality
to happy wanderers. Millions of fireflies dance
amidst all of it.
Trees reach up in inky black, lacey silhouettes
against the last hurrah of flaming pink sky.
The sun is going on holiday.
There they go! Did you see it? A turn of a
silvery faerie wing against an indigo sky,
tilted just so that the moonlight gilds it
ever-so-slightly. Soon you see another, and
another. They want to experience each blossom,
bud, and mysterious light sensation. They dance,
they fly. Each little faerie dressed to impress,
with the finest of silks, leaves, and tiny blooms
to adorn them. They are carefree, for where they
are is free from turbulence. ~*~
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