Beneath the moon’s soft silver glow,
Where mushrooms in a circle grow,
The fairy folk do dance and play,
Through starry night ’til break of day.
Their whispers drift upon the breeze,
Through ancient oaks and willow trees.
But heed this warning, mortal kin:
Beware the circle; don’t step in.
For those who cross the mystic ring
May hear the fey begin to sing.
A haunting tune, both sweet and sly,
Will steal your soul before you sigh.
Their laughter’s light, their forms are fair,
But tread too close and they’ll ensnare.
For fairies guard their sacred space,
And do not pardon human grace.
So leave their rings to moss and dew,
And let the fey their rites renew.
Respect the bounds of their domain,
Or risk the loss of heart and brain.
For those who scorn the fairy laws
Shall suffer fates with chilling claws.
A life bewitched, a path askew—
All this, and more, may fall on you.
So mind your step when woods are deep,
And leave the fey their secrets to keep.
For those who honor, they may bless,
But trespassers meet no kindness.
2024 ©️
The Royal Octopus 