The fairy of my fifth year
Was precious, bright and swift
Till toil and time’s erosion
Caused crystal lens to shift

Fresh freedom, mirthful magic
Devoid of doubt or fear
By wistful recollection
Will sometimes re-appear

 

by Dorothea Barth ©2015

This entry was posted on Thursday, October 8th, 2015 at 9:28 pm and is filed under Dorothea Barth, Fairy Poems, Spiritual. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.