**#0382 Nana's exquisite creations and legal Hemp Goodies made by myself #0382 The Naomi Lynn Simon

Hand crafted Beautiful โค๏ธ Exquisite Creation's Apo and Legal Hemp Goodies made by myself #0382 The Naomi Lynn Simon and more worldwide. I've been sewing and cooking and crafting since very young! ( This is a real picture I took of myself#0382 Naomi Lynn Simon in front of my house ๐Ÿก at 4527 SE RHODESIA ST Milwaukee Oregon 97222 on May 2020 from my cell phone anyways me and my kids and grandkids all have Fairy garden's so do you believe after seeing this picture?

Tuesday, April 8, 2025

The Stolen Child Poem of year 1889

 

Where dips the rocky highland
Of Sleuth Wood in the lake,
There lies a leafy island
Where flapping herons wake
The drowsy water rats;
There weโ€™ve hid our faery vats,
Full of berrys
And of reddest stolen cherries.
Come away, O human child!
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the worldโ€™s more full of weeping than you can understand.

Where the wave of moonlight glosses
The dim gray sands with light,
Far off by furthest Rosses
We foot it all the night,
Weaving olden dances
Mingling hands and mingling glances
Till the moon has taken flight;
To and fro we leap
And chase the frothy bubbles,
While the world is full of troubles
And anxious in its sleep.
Come away, O human child!
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the worldโ€™s more full of weeping than you can understand.

Where the wandering water gushes
From the hills above Glen-Car,
In pools among the rushes
That scarce could bathe a star,
We seek for slumbering trout
And whispering in their ears
Give them unquiet dreams;
Leaning softly out
From ferns that drop their tears
Over the young streams.
Come away, O human child!
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the worldโ€™s more full of weeping than you can understand.

Away with us heโ€™s going,
The solemn-eyed:
Heโ€™ll hear no more the lowing
Of the calves on the warm hillside
Or the kettle on the hob
Sing peace into his breast,
Or see the brown mice bob
Round and round the oatmeal chest.
For he comes, the human child,
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the worldโ€™s more full of weeping than he can understand.

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