I have ask myself this
and still do not know.
am like the slaves
for my roots.
am like the Lepers
were said to be unclean.
am like the lost generations
am a child of this world looking for love
am a mother and grandmother of today
I say who am I?
in the heart of the forest
the fern and the Supple Jacks grow Where the tall trees spread their shelter
the quietest place I know
place where fairies must surely be
so quite and peaceful beneath the trees
they come out when the moon comes up
find a nice spot where they can sup
a tiny flower for a loving cup.
clothes of pretty colours bright
can see them all at night
am sure if you go there again
will see the fairies ring alight
have seen the fairies dance about
the moon beams iri and out
little shining wings so clear
wish that you could have seen them too.