He wha tills the fairies’ green
Nae luck again shall hae:
And he wha spills the fairies’ ring
Betide him want and wae.

— Anonymous, from a traditional Scottish rhyme

In the lush days of May
I was lured by the faintly far away,
Echoing chimes of liminality
Bewitched the air like dreams, othering me
With visions from the betwixt and between:
I see a bluebell wood, ancient, abloom
In deep azurean glow, violet-rich
Wild hyacinth, enchantments thick with mists,
Wet with spell-craft that drips like will-o’-wisps,
Leading me pixie-led through paths illumed
By soft-dissolving beams of splintered light,
Until I find a circle of midnight mushrooms
Like pale opal-drops of liquid moonlight —
Led astray by spring’s Sapphire Queen
I here now chance my luck within the fairy ring.

[Clay Franklin Johnson is the author of A Ride Through Faerie & Other Poems (2021), an illustrated collection of poetry published by Gothic Keats Press.  His collection’s eponymous poem was presented at ‘Ill met by moonlight’: Gothic encounters with enchantment and the Faerie realms in literature and culture, a conference organized by the Open Graves, Open Minds Project (OGOM) with the University of Hertfordshire.  Clay’s work has appeared in Nightingale & Sparrow, The Fairy Tale Magazine, Ghost Orchid Press, Eternal Haunted Summer, Abyss & Apex, Gramarye, and The Galway Review, among others.  Both poetry and essays can be found on his website at www.clayfjohnson.com.  Follow him on Twitter and Instagram @ClayFJohnson.]