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Twinkle, twinkle, Tinkerbell,
Dancing in the wooded dell.
The coloured flowers are her friends,
T'is her that makes the willow bend.
And on her toes are rings and things,
That glisten as she plays and sings.
From hay and straw she builds a nest,
So that she may lay her head to rest.
And deep within the leafy ground,
A trail if silver can be found.
T'is placed there by the snails her friends,
So she may join them where it ends.
She has I'm told a bag of tricks,
Made from leaves and tiny sticks.
When all is quiet, all is still,
She casts out magic for her thrill.
She spreads her wings so she can fly,
To reach the sun up in the sky.
Across the breeze she flits and flashes,
To fast to see through blinking lashes.
And so she twinkles in the light,
And catches moonbeams in the night,
She is a funny little creature;
Who will vanish if you try to reach her.
And so the little Tinkerbell,
Dances in the fairy dell
Copyight© 2002 Joannda Rich
|Copyright© 2002 James Browne||Return to Previous Page|
|Latest Update April 15, 2004|