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Faerie dusted May 18, 2001

Hello! My name is Merryiad. Since I am a creature of many interests, moods and colors, I am one of the Rainbow Faeries. I am a new faerie, having been born from the many sights, sounds and happenings that took place at my very first Faery Festival at Spoutwood Farm. My protector is a troll. My troll's name is Troland. I would like to introduce you to Spoutwood Farm, as it is the mystical place of my birth.

2001 Spoutwood Farm May Day Faerie Festival

Outside the small town of Glen Rock, PA lies a lovely country farm by the name of Spoutwood Farms. Recently, the farm hosted the 2001 May Day Faerie Festival, which I had the opportunity to attend. My first year in attendance was as a curious attendee. My second year was as a volunteer. My third year was as the volunteer coordinator and I also served on the planning committee. In 2000, I was crowned "Queen of the May", which was a great honor! The festival has grown steadily over the years. This year, the festivities were expanded to two days, with nearly 4000 in attendance. The weather was absolutely, perfectly wonderful. . .the faeries must have been as excited as the humans about celebrating the glorious beginnings of spring and nature coming into full bloom! The festival attendees came from many different states for the festivities. This year's gathering featured the Maypole Dance, crowning of the prince and princess & king and queen, a variety of dancers, roving storytellers, bagpipe players and an autoharpist. The drumming circle, tales by Mickie Singer, a performance by Carnival Kaotika, faerie tea parties and faerie habitat tours through the woods rounded out the entertainment. Vendors displayed everything from rare books to handmade faerie wings, jewelry, stone crafts, gem crafts, soaps, lotions, artwork, herbal crafts, honey products, incense and faerie magic. Anyone attending the festivities could dress in their own faerie creation or could make one of their own on the grounds with materials supplied at the craft tables. Some of the magical items attendees could make and decorate were faerie wands, garlands and furniture. Also featured were faerie dustmaking, May baskets, lots of bubbles, and an infoplace featuring environmental displays. CSA(Community Supported Agriculture) sponsored the Chicken Barn Shop on site. This shop boasted a wide selection of books, gifts, wreaths and assorted delights. This was a delightful way to get away from the fast-paced world and remember the "magic spirit" within us! 'Also a good way to get back in touch with Mother Nature.

This year, the fesitval committee entered a float in the St. Patrick's Day parade in York, PA. It was featured in two newpapers and was bedecked with natural items, dried flowers, dried fruit, netting, ribbons, a hippie tree troll and bubbles of all shapes and sizes from our very own bubbleman and his bubble machine. Much to everyone's delight, the float won first prize! We plan on entering the Halloween Parade this fall.

Merryiad is feeling very contented today and will sprinkle all kinds of lovely divinations on anyone who visits here. Merryiad's protector has taken himself and their spritely son to a troll haven in the southern part of the "gay countree", leaving Merryiad and her faithful animal creature to bask in the serenity of a peaceful dwelling. Merryiad has slept deliciously, danced all the way to the stars and back, has dreamed marvelous dreams and has dined on elegant faerie morsels in the company of neighboring sprites. Merryiad has gazed at the stars and has sunk her twinkling toes into the cool November grass, while her animal creature has soared after faerie balls and offered endless affectionate kisses. Ahhhh. . .how Merryiad's spirit swells and flies free from the earth into the vast spaces of the heavens. Tis blissful, indeed, beyond words. Come fly with me, all free spirits, and we will sing with the stars. Share my mirth with me, dance with me! May our music sprinkle all humans with sweet dreams!

Rainbow Faerie by Enchanted Hollow

The Fairies

There are fairies at the bottom of our garden!
It's not so very, very far away;
You pass the the gardener's shed and you just keep straight ahead-
I do so hope they've really come to stay.
There's a little wood, with moss in it and beetles,
And a little stream that quietly runs through;
You wouldn't think they'd dare to come merrymaking there-
Well, they do.

There are fairies at the bottom of our garden!
They often have a dance on summer nights;
The butterflies and bees make a lovely little breeze,
And the rabbits stand about and hold the lights.
Did you know that they could sit upon the moonbeams
And pick a little star to make a fan,
And dance away up there in the middle of the air?
Well, they can.

There are fairies at the bottom of our garden!
You cannot think how beautiful they are;
They all stand up and sing when the Fairy Queen and King
Come gently floating down upon their car.
The King is very proud and very handsome;
The Queen-now can you guess who that could be?
(She's a little girl all day, but at night she steals away)
Well-it's me!

Rose Fyleman

Prism Faerie by Enchanted Hollow

Fairy's Wander-Song

Over hill, over dale,
Thorough bush, thorough brier,
Over park, over pale,
Thorough flood, thorough fire.
I do wander everywhere,
Swifter than the moone's sphere;
And I serve the fairy queen,
To dew her orbs upon the green.
The cowslips tall her pensioners be;
In their gold coats spots you see,
Those be rubies, fairy favors,
In those freckles live their savors:
I must go seek some dewdrops here,
And hang a pearl in every cowslip's ear.

William Shakespeare

Created by VikiMouse

Stocking Fairy

In a hole of the heel of an old brown stocking,
A little old Fairy sits rocking and rocking,
And scolding and pointing and squeaking and squinting,
Brown as a nut, a bright eye glinting,
She tugs at a thread, she drags up a needle,
She stamps and she shrills, she commences too wheedle,
To whine of the cold, in a fine gust of temper
She beats on my thumb, and then with a whimper
She sulks in her shawl, she says I've forgotten
I promised to make her a lattice of cotton,
A soft, woven window, cozy yet airy,
Where she could sit rocking and peeking-Hush, Fairy,
Tush, Fairy, sit gently, look sweetly,
I'll do what I said, now, and close you in neatly.

Winifred Welles

Created by Full Moon Graphics

A Fairy Tale

Now this is the story of Olaf
Who ages and ages ago
Lived right on the top of a mountain,
A mountain all covered with snow.

And he was quite pretty and tiny
With beautiful curling fair hair
And small hands like delicate flowers--
Cheeks kissed by the cold mountain air.

He lived in a hut made of pinewood
Just one little room and a door
A table, a chair, and a bedstead
And animal skins on the floor.

Now Olaf was partly fairy
And so never wanted to eat;
He thought dewdrops and raindrops were plenty
And snowflakes and all perfumes sweet.

In the daytime when sweeping and dusting
And cleaning were quite at an end,
He would sit very still on the doorstep
And dream--O, that he had a friend!

Somebody to come when he called them,
Somebody to catch by the hand,
Somebody to sleep with at night time,
Somebody who'd quite understand.

One night in the middle of Winter
He lay wide awake on his bed,
Outside there was fury of tempest
And calling of wolves to be fed--

Thin wolves, grey and silent as shadows;
And Olaf was frightened to death.
He had peeped through a crack in the doorpost,
He had seen the white smoke of their breath.

But suddenly over the storm wind
He heard a small voice pleadingly
Cry, "I am a snow fairy, Olaf,
Unfasten the window for me."

So he did, and there flew through the opening
The daintiest, prettiest sprite
Her face and her dress and her stockings,
Her hands and her curls were all white.

And she said, "O you poor little stranger
Before I am melted, you know,
I have brought you a valuable present,
A little brown fiddle and bow.

So now you can never be lonely,
With a fiddle, you see, for a friend,
But all through the Summer and Winter
Play beautiful songs without end."

And then,--O she melted like water,
But Olaf was happy at last;
The fiddle he tucked in his shoulder,
He held his small bow very fast.

So perhaps on the quietest of evenings
If you listen, you may hear him soon,
The child who is playing the fiddle
Away up in the cold, lonely moon.

Katherine Mansfield

For Christmas 2000, I received a Teacup Fairy from my daughter and this poem came with it:

"Whether a pot, cup, can or kettle
These fairies plant blooms wherever they settle.
It could be a jar, a box or a shoe.
All we discard, they magically renew.
They use roses and daisies and violets too,
To make fairie treasures for me and for you.

For continuing information on the May 2001 Faerie Festival, please visit May Day Faerie Festival for updates.

To view photos of Faerie Habitats and Happenings during this year's festivities, please visit Zing Photo Album

The whirlwinds which scoop up the dust across the fields are transportation for faeries and elves.

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