Fairies Dancing

I was five,
and you were seven.
Our golden hair,
glistened in the afternoon sun.
Everyday,
right after our lunch,
we ran out the back door and into each others arms.
You were my best friend,
and I was yours.
We spun in circles until our heads felt light,
we jumped in the air,
pulling droopy leaves off the trees.
We sat in the sun eating homemade cookies and lemonade.
Those were the days.
But one day in particular,
stands out in my mind.
The day we saw the fairies fly in the sky.
We were in the garden,
well, to us, a magical forest.
When you spotted something odd around the lavender bush.
"Look, look! Quick! What are they? Some sort of bird?"
I glanced to the spot pointed out with your finger,
and there they were.
Tiny little fairies, dancing around.
And up they went, around our heads and into the sky,
whispering to us tales of happy times.
Oh yes, that was the day.
That was the day,
I began to believe that fairytales were the real darn thing.

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