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Click hereFaerie Fantasy
Walking in the forest on the Elf Year's eve,
Are those whispering voices or do my ears deceive?
An uneasy sense of being observed,
Then fog rolls in and my path is obscured.
I drink from the spring, then lay down to sleep,
Despite manly strength, my body grows weak.
The pixies approach in the moonlit night,
Whisper and sprinkle with wanton delight.
Eyes ablaze with desire and unfulfilled need,
Transform their victim to receive their seed.
Dreams of fertility and a fecund Earth,
Next ravishment, rapture and a glorious rebirth.
Awakening renewed in a feminine idyll,
Delighted in the knowledge of carrying Nature's child.