Go yonder ye to thee wand of almond tree, there embrace, thy hands to hands, close thy eyes go forth ye faerie folk, to yonder almond tree. Tis there, thee will find the wand of Queen Shih’esham for whom do find.
Go, henceforth, there one will see it glisten so, if ye be the one to behold such magi.
If one plucks ye wand from the almond tree, be the one hand to take, take it well, for it controls such faerie magi.
Nowise you’re kind knowing of malevolent wants, tis only for good of heartfelt deeds.
Forbid thee of ever ask, the wand to make a maiden, taketh her heart, and soul, for retribution will befall your soul and heart, that never more will you love or be loved.
Be wise as an owl, always with good intent do thee use the faerie wand of almond tree. Pixies and faeries, and all forest folk, do thee see garlands of wild blossom, meadow blooms to wear in their hair.
Do you see with glee there in that hazel tree? All faeries with trinkets of gold don’t be too bold, for our faerie and pixie folk; do play in the meadows and hedgerows, telling their extravagant tales.
Faeries of old, faeries of new, never do we see such fools as thee.
The faerie Queen in fine regalia, her subjects are shy, see how they fly, never take by her wing, surely she’d die.
Faeries fly with grace and such skill, like humming birds so still, do you ever see a faerie fly, without her crown of meadow snow drop?
Faeries or pixies ye Willow tree mourns, driven from woods and forests all, there meadows heaths hedgerows too, wherever wisheth be, cast out thine rightful homes. Oh the faerie folk their homes destroyed with pitchfork and scythe, there tiki’s do burn, out, out the humi’s cry. Away with ye, be gone, oh ye devils, bewitching young’uns foolish talk. In traps-n-nets they take them all sparing none there our plight?
Nowhere to fly, no hiding place, there woods and forest ablaze with rage, on, on those humis drive the faerie folk who once dwelt in the evergreen.
Willow branches hang with sadness upon the faerie folk’s demise and expulsion from there woodland green. When will she raise those long grief stricken fingers, she weeps alas no more her faerie folk do dwell.
When all the faeries came and played, alas no more there ever will, alas no more never more see our glistening friends our faerie folk there evergreen no more they be in there playing fields, and woods, even forest deep deserted all.
Oh the sad snowdrop hangs her head with shame, why you ask, I tell you so, because of humis doings, driving her faerie folk from her. The faeries would take and wear upon there crowns her bloom of plenty, and even play a game so gay with harps so merry when all the faeries would come to play. Alas no more will she see her glistening friends. Oh who will find the wand of the willow tree?
Thy faerie queen she sits so regal upon her thrown, Oh Why, why the faerie folk cry, banished from there world of green. Now the willow bows so low to conceal the wand of willow tree, none will find until the day the faeries dawn.
My Poetry and from my mind 