Dawn Birth

Dawn Birth

Fairy wings flutter to the ground,
with barely a whisper of sound,
as dew-drops twinkle, wet and round,
at the bottom of my garden.

Tiny feet land on a grassy tip,
making a hanging droplet drip
softly into a red tulip
at the bottom of my garden.

The air falls still. They crane to see
something that happens so rarely.
There's a birth of a new fairy
at the bottom of my garden.

Sweet scents drift in the morning air;
Swirls of fairy dust are everywhere,
glittering and winking down there
at the bottom of my garden.

The red tulip begins to glow,
throwing into the sky a halo,
all the colours of a rainbow,
from the bottom of my garden.

Like a whirlwind the rainbow spins
drawing in the scents of the jasmines,
and the morning songs of robins
from the bottom of my garden.

Round and round, faster and faster,
surrounded by tinkling laughter,
magic is woven by the spellmaster
at the bottom of my garden.

Then, rings of fairies joining hands
rise and spread out like chinese fans,
like sparkles made into garlands
at the bottom of my garden.

There! There is the fountain of light!
And there, where it is the most bright,
is where there lies the newborn sprite
at the bottom of my garden.

Now, in the still of the morning
a ray of light from the dawning
sun falls on the creature forming
at the bottom of my garden.

At last, the fairies move away,
to let the infant greet the day
and try her wings without delay
around the whole of my garden.