When myths of ancient history
arise from charcoal mystery,
imagination bids me trust
deep magic dwells in fairy dust.
The golden tales of long ago
may be pretend, and yet I know
they breathe beneath their cloaks of rust.
Deep magic dwells in fairy dust.
For books hold spellbound creatures lore
with loves and places to explore,
enchanted realms, supreme, august.
Deep magic dwells in fairy dust.
And when I find I'm all alone
these golden lands become my own.
Close tight my eyes, believe I must.
Deep magic dwells in fairy dust.
~
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