Whisperly in the Willow Winds

Soweth the tyme along before the waves have rolled a-far-ways south for the winter and yet again return for the newly arised summer sun. And so it be for the ones that we once loved have returned from afar off land and now hath settled round yonder bend, awaiting again the distant song that spewed forth alongst the Whisperly Winds, fiddling around the eager bushels of egg-thumps and leafy greens, ne'er once considering the toothy grin that one bumpkin might share so soon. Ergo, a wondrous and valiant soul might venture forth and so ponder, what meaneth this then? Has the sounding trump rung once more in the deep? Alas! No more a feather bed in the woods could have less ease adjusting to the kindling flame than the fairey that lights the way for the foot-strung traveler who needeth such guidance through the billowing bog, yet here she has it. Yes, indeed. The long night is over, a new day has just begun...