Description

Beneath the hush of silver trees,
the air hums low with memories.
Roots recall what time forgot,
and dreams take shape where breath is not.

The night folds close, its lace of gloom,
stitched through the hush of moss and tomb.
The moonlight drips through tangled boughs,
like whispered oaths or half-lost vows.

In shadowed glades, the watchfires gleam,
where faith and fear are one same dream.
Soft wings and whispers stir the air —
old souls wake, and find you there.

Through veils of mist, they rise once more,
crowned in twilight, dread, and lore.
The Dream-Haunting Fae draw near the light…
beware the waking of the night. 🌙

Coming this November — The Dream-Haunting Fae Collection Cork Fabric Panels