Upon the edge of forest green, Perchance you've walked, you may have seen, Tiny rings of cloverleaf, And dared not wonder what's beneath. Well I shall tell you of a tale, That happened neath a moon so pale, I walked along where none could see, By Druids font, and tall oak Tree. The gentle tinkling of a chime, Which sounded like an Angels rhyme, Came drifting slowly on the breeze, That rocked the tops of tall oak Trees.And showed a Faerie dell. Leaves of green and berries red, They placed a ring upon my head, Led me in merry dance. I did not doubt, but took my chance, Followed on this mighty throng, Enchanted by their simple song. The lights were bright in tiny hands, And I was shown into their lands. Misty curtains I did pass, Which rose like breath above the grass, And there she stood divine, In mantle like the blood red wine. Shrouded in a haze of red A golden crown upon her head. Between this world and theirs Where the man and faerie dwells