The shuffling of angels' feet,
shy, atop the coloured bow.
There where the fairies meet -
from green, to red, to indigo.
Chanting softly songs of gold
they're looking down.
Or, so I'm told,
to where they came from,
where they were found.
I shall be there.
I will meet you.
You will see me
Near the blue.
All rights belong to its author. It was published on e-Stories.org by demand of Justine Knolle.
Published on e-Stories.org on 01/19/2005.
More from this category "Fantasy" (Poems in english)
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