The Fairy Pool

From dreams I peep into the world.
Into the outer world
some call reality.
The fairy pool, its currents
ever swirling.
That magical place
filled with such vitality.

A place to sit beside
an ancient oak or pine.
A weeping willow shimmering.
Her branches dancing
in the morning breeze.
And I, with what surprise
to see my cheerful face —

My face reflected …
Reflected with such brightness
in a brook nearby.
A brook, babbling with delight.
Where some can sip …
Can sip the essence
of the living water.

Refreshing to a thirsty soul.
What sweet desire awaits …
Awaits the traveler
to this Fairy Pool of wonder.
Not far away, within my sight …
a nightingale courts a robin.
And a skylark from a bough above …

Chirping sweet melodious songs
to accompany their courting.
Gleefully, to warm a poet’s heart.
While squirrels scamper playfully.
‘Cross the blades of grass.
The Fairy Pool, my Fairy Pool.
A place for everyone to meet.

Perchance to court a visitor.
Enchanted  fairy folk of this realm,
adorned with harp and lyre,
enjoined with all the magical creatures
In their joyful festive rituals,
of sweet songs and dances.
to embellish the four seasons of each year.