Whispers in Pixie Dust

From the Fairy Collection

There’s a tapping on the windowsill
When no one’s standing near,
A scent of bloom in winter gloom,
A giggle in your ear.
The teaspoon dances in its cup,
The cat stares at the wall,
And though you shrug and sip your tea,
You've heard the fairies call.

They flit between the ticking clocks
And hide in folded clothes,
They brush their wings ‘round dainty things,
And ride the garden hose.
They hum inside the kettle’s steam,
They sleep behind the books,
And polish dreams with make believe
In cozy, cobweb nooks.

They chalk the skies in sherbet hues
When evening drapes her shawl,
They twine the place in silver lace
And paint the shadows small.
So mind your steps and guard your thoughts,
For fairies love a peek,
At laughter left on laundry lines
Or secrets mortals speak.

And if you feel a sudden breeze
Though every door is closed,
Or find a petal on your plate
Where nary a flower grows,
Just smile soft and say no more,
Let wonder lead the way,
For fairies walk among us all,
And bless the world each day.

by Heather Patton - The Verdant Butterfly

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