In the heart of the ancient forest, where shadows softly fall,
Fairies dance in moonlight’s gleam, their laughter a gentle call.
Wings of gossamer shimmer bright, in hues of twilight’s end,
They weave through trees and flowers, on magic they depend.

Beneath the silver crescent, where the air is sweet and still,
They gather in a circle, atop a dewdrop hill.
With whispers soft as summer breeze, they share their secret lore,
Of ancient times and wonders, of legends told before.

Their voices blend like melodies, a symphony of night,
They paint the sky with stardust, a mesmerizing sight.
The forest hums with magic, a realm where dreams take flight,
As fairies dance in twilight, till dawn’s first golden light.

And as the morning sun arises, their forms begin to fade,
They vanish into daylight, into the forest shade.
Yet in the hearts of dreamers, their magic ever stays,
A reminder of the fairies, and their enchanting ways.