The Veil

The day has come,
but no yet the sun.
As the veil of mist rises.
Like a kite it does fly,
dissipating in the sky.
Waiting on moonbeams to find it.

With the velvet of night,
the veil is wove tight,
and the realm of the Faye comprises.

Their curtain of mist,
by man may be missed,
until their song calls us.