It blew me away

It clear blew me away
To the islands of fae
Where the white maidens
Its one great Celtic chance
To see with my eyes
The ultimate prize

In the forest of Thorn
Where green mosses adorn
The silvery papery bark of the birch
And where toadstools embrace
And tenderly chase
The fae on their way
At the end of each day

A number do stand
And no fairer band
Of mosses and toadstools
There be
Always an abundance of birds
In the woodland
Twittering significantly

A bringer of promise
At imbolc we see
The great light returning
Where every tree
Accepts the honour
And joyfully tries
Its new leap of faith
Up into the skies

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