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Fairy Footprints
Morning, on my lowly walk,
my presence grace the shore.
I count the fairy footsteps...
they number just as four.
As I leave, to my surprise,
I'm fraught with how or why..
I turn my head, and lift my lids..
A fairy I do Spy!
My head bows in sight of grace,
but when it falls back into place..
what now? She sees me? I've seen that face...
She lifts her eyes from gentle search...
I watch her from my earthen perch,
In a twinkle, she fades, and goes...
fairy footprints? (smile) Who knows?
poem
by
Julie Rogers
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