Yearning the Green

This has been the strangest weather that we have encountered in a long time. I suspect there is mischief about or mother nature is has a sence of humor. I yearn for the woodland greens when everything wakes from it's winter burrow. Today I had to feel the appreciation of the seasons in contrast with each other. I took my lovely woodland earth sprite, Eriantha Kaia (which means sweetness from the earth) for a view of the bright white snow. I have her face so sweetly painted while she wears earthy rooted feet:)

My winter faerie sleeping on the woodland fox is my youngest faerie granddaughter, Kitana.



Oh! Where do the fairies hide their heads,
When snow lies on the hills,
When frost has spoiled their mossy beds,
And crystallized their rills?
Beneath the moon they cannot trip
In circles o'er the plain;
And draughts of dew they cannot sip,
Till green leaves come again.

Perhaps, in small blue diving - bells
They plunge beneath the waves,
Inhabiting the wreathed shells
That lie in coral caves,
Perhaps, in red Vesuvius
Carousals they maintain;
And cheer their little spirits thus,
Till green leaves come again.
When they return, there will be mirth
And music in the air,
And fairy wings upon the earth,
And mischief everywhere.
The maids, to keep the elves aloof,
Will bar the doors in vain;
No key hole will be fairy proof
When green leaves come again.

fairy poem by Thomas Hanes Bayly