The Vale of Stolen Dreams . - Away with us he's going, the solemn-eyed; He'll hear no more the lowing of the calves on the warm hillside Or the kettle on the hob sing peace into his breast, Or see the brown mice bob Round and round the oatmeal-chest. For he comes, the human child, To the waters and the wild With a faery hand in hand, From a world more full of weeping than he can understand.                                             W. B. Yeats .  . .. . .    So, here you've come at last. Welcome then, oh wanderer caught on a faery's tune. Yes, that is how you came to be here. Did you know it not? No matter. You are welcome to this refuge. Should you wish to leave, it is understood. If you wish to follow the deeper paths, take my Lady's hand and follow.
    If ye be of the Olde Blood, or a True Wanderer, feel yourself at home. If you have come to us by chance of accident, consider yourself our guest, and may you find something of worth herin. Of myth, tale, and dream drink deep, for this will never come quite the same again.
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. Come to a Crossroads . ..   . . The Faerie's Glyph View & Sign . . . . . the compliments of others, ~*~ the rings upon my hand . . . moonsidhe@geocities.com or magi_dancer@hotmail.com & lunasidhe@fianna.com . ..