DrSnowCrash

The ground is soft and the moss is old, the forest holds tales still untold. Tall ancient trees grown to last, hold stories still of a celtic past. The darkened boughs whisper songs of wonder, through these woods the celts did wander. Crystal pools and hidden places, behind old rocks hide ancient faces. The fairy sings and plants her seeds, while telling tales of heroes deeds. Hidden pathways led to realms of magic, our loss of these is truly tragic. Ancient signs that only few still see, where spirits learn that they are free.