Mysterious ring of mushrooms appearing
Beside my spruce as august is nearing
Suddenly springing up on my back lawn
Wood folk are forever to festivals drawn
faintly glowing lightning bugs softly sing
As shy glen pixies dance around the ring
Vying to be crowned a queen or king
A whole kingdom to sly for my hearing
Dressed in gossamer woven with fawn
till all vanish with the coming of dawn
This poem is dediccated to my friends Hauns, Kim and the child that is still in the works. I Wish you all of the best.
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