Iris Diaphanous

 
A Faerie's Protest
Who says the moon is not my mother,
or your garden not my bed?
Who says the woods did not see me,
when from its trees I fled?
Who says my hair is not of the dandelions,
or my cheeks not cherry red?
Who said that I do not exist,
who said?
We say to believe in faeries you must use your heart
and not your head.

 

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