Stange things may glow,When the moom fires upon the Horizon small pixies in their blue-green wings flutter in the moonbeams.Who shall know why these ancient creatures dance in the cold beems of autum? Who should go and try to capture one? The person with the pure heart will find that the pixie will welcome the company, and perhaps faintly glow during the end of the solstice dance. Then Speed away to yet another mortal who will be as awed as those before them.
