Silently they come;
Youngling fairies
Flit about the yard,
Playing hide and seek
Amid the falling snow.
With tiny fairy wands
They trace ‘round fragile leaves
That cling to slender limbs.
A flimsy fairy film
Remains behind,
Where falling flakes may light
And, caught like flies,
Form lacy drapes
And icy spires—
A regal getaway
From fairy godmothers
Who seem to run the world.
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