The End of Swain Woods:
Yes, the evil ones did come, the bulldozers and the trucks. No longer was Swain Woods
Yes, the evil ones did come, the bulldozers and the trucks. No longer was Swain Woods
full of bird songs, bunnies that cuddle, and fairies living there. They call it progress, it is said; but sadly what is called progress for some is devastation for others. Most humans living nearby didn't know there were fairies in the woods. They thought their dreams were big enough to destroy the trees and ferns, uprooting the unseen little people living there. Their hearts were sheltered and they couldn't see, they couldn't hear the sweetness of the music.
The fairies knew it was time to leave, to find a new home. They must travel far. There was a gathering one last time with their forest friends as they said a fond farewell. They packed their bags and invited Scamp to travel with them. There were new places to explore and soon they would leave Swain Woods. Oh yes, they would be sad to leave. The music would be silent, it would leave with them.
The eagle came swooping in and soon they were aboard. He would carry them deep into a newly discovered woods where again they would dance, sing, and scamper with delight. Tea parties would abound with sweet nectar's of violets and pine needles in their cups. If only I knew where they lived, I would once again join them to savor the music and watch with enchantment.
Today there are houses built in Swain Woods. I wonder if they ever find a fairy wing or hear the music?
Though my story of memories of Swain Woods are done, I will never forget dreaming and dancing there.
The fairies knew it was time to leave, to find a new home. They must travel far. There was a gathering one last time with their forest friends as they said a fond farewell. They packed their bags and invited Scamp to travel with them. There were new places to explore and soon they would leave Swain Woods. Oh yes, they would be sad to leave. The music would be silent, it would leave with them.
The eagle came swooping in and soon they were aboard. He would carry them deep into a newly discovered woods where again they would dance, sing, and scamper with delight. Tea parties would abound with sweet nectar's of violets and pine needles in their cups. If only I knew where they lived, I would once again join them to savor the music and watch with enchantment.
Today there are houses built in Swain Woods. I wonder if they ever find a fairy wing or hear the music?
Though my story of memories of Swain Woods are done, I will never forget dreaming and dancing there.
