Some old work of mine

Are fairy's just like butterfly's?
Who live in summer, comes winter dies?
Do their wings go slow and lazy thru the sky's?
Or like hummingbirds do they whiz by?
Are fairy's colors autumn bright?
Or green to hide in springs delight?
Do they fly so fancy free?
Or fight and worry like you and me?
No matter witch, I watch the sky's,
to dream I could see a fairy fly!

 

 

 

Do not judge my skin so green,
and think me evil sight unseen!
for in the bog I flit and fly
in joyful abandon, till I die.
the color green, of frogs and wet,
this perfect life, my skin reflects .
although the swamps are dark and dreary,
my happy soul, is far from weary!