Glimpses of the Folk

Did I miss the whir of airy wings
Dancing just beyond the moonlight’s edge
The goddess beauty of her face
Bathed unseen in that dark wash
That keeps her secrets from my sight
Her tiptoed steps my only clue
Did I miss that moment’s chance
To look upon her farie face
Or did I look away in time
To save my heart from later pain?

Stuart Sharp is a writer and postgraduate history student currently living in East Yorkshire.

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