In the whispering woods where magic lies,
Beneath the pale moon’s gentle rise,
Fairies dance with wings so bright,
Painting dreams in the velvet night.

With every step, the forest sings,
Of ancient spells and secret things,
A world where tales of old come true,
And every leaf holds morning dew.

The air is filled with laughter sweet,
As woodland creatures lightly meet,
In this realm of endless grace,
Where time itself has lost its pace.

So, close your eyes and drift away,
To the land where fairies play,
In the whispering woods so deep,
Where dreams and stories gently sleep.