The woodland held a sale today
Of finest Irish lace.
The towering oaks held every piece
Of cutwork in its place.
The dining cloths were tossed across
The maples' sturdy crowns;
The dogwoods and the birches held
The lace for bridal gowns.
And yards of lace for trimmings
Festooned all the hickories,
And there along the wooded lane
Curtains draped the cherry trees.
The shoppers swept in with the wind
And rushed about the store;
And then, within an hour,
There just wasn't anymore.
The sale was over for the day;
The lace was carried home
To decorate the cozy dens
Of fairies and of gnomes.