Long ago,
when I was small,
the autumn trees,
waving and tall,
made the the rest of the world just stop and wait,
while I stared on,
an endless gaze.
Listening closely,
I heard a song,
about a fairy,
lost, but calm.
She whispered to me,
a melodic spree,
about a cabin next to a big oak tree.
Out by the lake,
circled with fronds.
Lively fish,
awake in their pond.
Splashing, and dancing,
they drum against water.
While the nymphs run and sing,
in the tree's shade and shelter.
Fireplace gently churning within,
it beckoned me forth,
like a comforting friend.
Flowers on the mantle,
a bear skin rug,
there was warm tea waiting,
in ceramic mugs.
"You can stay here forever,"
the fairy sang to me.
"Stay in the cabin, under the big oak tree."
And so to further win me,
she brought me a man.
Tall and strong,
rugged,
firm hand.
She lured him with song,
and the nymphs lead him through.
By the flames of the fire,
we discovered something new.
And so the fairy sang,
and the fish kept drumming.
The birds in the trees kept on humming,
and humming.
The crickets chirped loud,
and the forest held chorus.
Inside the warm wood cabin,
we gave our own performance.
But then the fairy stopped its song.
And I stood there,
gazing along.
Transfixed by the naked autumn trees,
all of their leaves
lost to the breeze.
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