When winds of March are wakening
The crocuses and crickets,
A-straightening her golden wings and
And when she sees you creeping up
A-playing hide and seek,
A-reading by a firefly lamp
Her favourite dragonfly?
Off a catkin boat,
Oh, don't you love the fairies
And their fairy babies, too? I do!
poem by Marjorie Barrows
photos by Willy Ronis