When deep in the mist
of a wooded glen,
My memory beckons
to childhood friends.
In dulcet tones
both lilting and lyrical,
I call to them
the magical and mythical.
The nymphs that dance
'neath the mayapple's shade,
And fairies that flit
in a frenzied parade.
On a skunk cabbage throne
sits an elfin king,
And a frog prince waits
near a rainfed spring.
Barbara L. Steinberg
May 1985
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