The Dewdrop Fairy

She rides the moon like a cloud,

follows it like the tide,
tracing her nails over starlight,


prances in the misty morning dew,
still hung high from crescent moon,


pulls the mist like a cotton gown,
draped elegantly from her shoulders,


makes fruit smells to come alive in the dark,
and watches children inhale the lemon raspberry dreams,


takes flight before sunrise,
kissing flower buds to wake and bloom,



then vanishes with the moon.
to wait in all her splendor until another night.