The golden-bird dawn is but a minute away <br />And the morning dew harvest is in its sway. <br />I stand in pre-morning dreary, still weary, <br />My eyes on a sign that reads, 'Don't Hunt the Fairy.' <br /> <br />Then that golden bird emerges, <br />Spreading every plumb <br />And a silver pixie flitters out <br />And emerges from its tomb. <br />The ruggy-furred bear <br />Yawns from its cavern <br />And clown-drunks already <br />Gather at the tavern. <br /> <br />The music house calliope <br />Is beginning to wield, <br />And the farm house farmers <br />Ready to reap yield. <br />Little children scurry from their houses, <br />Wearing masks <br />And maids and butlers sigh <br />At their long lists of tasks. <br /> <br />The fidgeting grass <br />Lines the straddling mountains, <br />The castle courtyard opens <br />With birds in marble fountains. <br />I see flags raised <br />High above every loft <br />And the pixie with a flute <br />Plays a sunflower melody soft. <br /> <br />Then I understand the meaning <br />Of the old wooden sign, <br />That not all days like these <br />Are born to be so fine. <br />When a grey begins to cast <br />And shade is presented <br />Upon the worldwide dreary, <br />We can leave the aghast <br />For the solace of this fairy.<br /><br />K. Jared Hosein<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/life-don-t-hunt-the-fairy/
