The Opal Dream Cave

In an opal dream cave I found a fairy: Her wings were frailer than flower petals, Frailer far than snowflakes. She was not frightened, but poised on my finger, Then delicately walked into my hand. I shut the two palms of my hands together And held her prisoner. I carried her out of the opal cave, Then opened my hands. First she became thistledown, Then a mote in a sunbeam, Then--nothing at all. Empty now is my opal dream cave.