where faeries flit
on garden paths
and gnomes protect
the flowers gay
the wee world in
puddles take their baths
‘neath mushrooms
avoid skies of gray
so grand the
vineyards, too, they thrive
in terraces and
arbors’ giant arches
spreading nectar as
dew comes alive
and the tiny ones
parade in marches
their lives to bless
the harvest and crops
to make the green
world grow and shine
until the frosts of
winter make it stop
but first the grapes
become fine wine
and then the faeries
and the gnomes
disappear from
gardens to winter homes
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