The soft stars are shining,
The moon is alight;
The folk of the forest
Are dancing tonight:
O swift and gay
Is the song that they sing;
They float and sway
As they dance in a ring
O seek not to find them,
The wee folk so fair;
They're shy as the swallow
And swift as the air;
If you come, they are gone
Like a snowflake in May;
Like a breath, like a sigh, They vanish away.

By Katherine Davis, 1892-1980

Faerie's dancing shadows photographed at Minnamurra Rainforest. :)

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