By Natalie Davis
At dusk the old world lives again
As faeries fill the open air.
The Small Folk come, the world reclaim;
They journey from I know not where.
Ancient secrets spice the wind,
Things forgotten long ago—
Few alone remember them.
The blowing breeze and dead men know.
The sun, a queen whose reign is over,
Sinks in the west with fading light.
The moon climbs up in pale grandeur
And bathes the sky in brilliant white.
Fireflies are faerie beacons,
Sparkling in the darkening dusk.
Higher up the star-beams twinkle.
Lights below, and lights above,
Together like some elvish tune,
Each part plays so skillfully,
Singing to the earth, they croon,
Creating a sort of symphony.
Natalie Davis is a young writer who has been composing tales—from Egyptian fantasy to modern day mysteries—for over five years, as well as countless poems that are good, bad, and ridiculous. She loves the storytelling craft, reading fiction, and coffee. Her two cats are her writing buddies and occasionally sneak into a story or two. She’s written multiple short stories and has a few full-length novels currently in progress. She strives to write stories that inspire others to pursue love, selflessness, hope, and above all, God.