Blue fairies of the garden, 
I watched their dance
As they pirouetted around the lavender.

The gossamer wings delicately folded one moment
Perfectly still, catching their breath,
Only to spin and twirl in harmony with the breeze. 

Was it rehearsed? I wondered.
A courtship of sorts,
With the dancers hearing a melody I was not attuned to.

It seemed joyful, and sensual, and frantic.
A pas de deux that was uniquely choreographed 
But captivatingly improvised as well. 

I was lost in their revelry,
Transfixed by their gambol 
For a few glorious moments in time. 

Their ballet left me mesmerized.
I wanted to cheer, “Encore!”
When they suddenly fled the stage.

Instead, kneeling on the brick, with my spade in hand,
I whispered a thoughtful, “Bravo!”
As I returned to my weeding.