Midnight Magic

Down by the lake side where the flowers grow in June,

Perched on a toadstool and gazing at the moon,

A group of infant faeries in the presence of their mam,

Sung their favourite song and danced to the midnight band.

 

On the bass was a frog and on percussion a rat,

The vocals a cricket and on rhythm a bat.

They played such sweet harmonies all through the night,

But soon disappeared in the bright morning light.

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