By the light of the moon,
On a cool, cool night,
Young Johnny Locke took a walk
Down to the old lake.

He’d not far to go
When his eyes caught a flash.
A glimpse of a maiden’s face,
Her hair flowing down her back.

He paused his late night venture
And puzzled, “Have my eyes deceived me?
“What maiden would brave the forest
At a time such as this?”

Young Johnny shook his head.
Surely he’d imagined it.
He continued on, in no mood
To worry about such things.

He soon came to the water’s edge
And set himself on the sand.
No particular reason to be there,
Just enjoying the calm of the night.

T’was then that he saw that maiden once more,
Walking not far from where he sat.
He rose to his feet quickly, startled,
And watched as she came to a stop.

She stared up at the moon, the gentle breeze
Wrapping her locks about her face.
She stood like a goddess, her beauty unbridled,
Her presence beyond mortal reach.

A rustle nearby and Young Johnny turned
As one by one more fair maidens appeared.
They too like goddesses walked
Down to she at the water’s edge.

He tucked himself behind a tree,
Away from the light of the moon.
He looked on as the goddesses
Formed a wide circle.

Their bodies began to sway
To what tune, he could not tell.
Young Johnny Locke from his hiding place watched
As the maidens began to dance.

They raised their arms to the heavens
Then slowly brought them to hang at their sides.
They took a step towards their center,
Their eyes watching the skies.

They continued to move with such grace, such beauty,
That Young Johnny couldn’t tear his eyes away.
It was entrancing, their movements across the sand,
And he could feel the world around him slipping away.

A sudden jolt as the ground rose to meet him.
Had he somehow fallen asleep?
He looked around, trying to get his bearings,
And was surprised to find the sun slowly rising.

He turned back to the lake.
Were they still there?
But much to his dismay
The shoreline held no occupants.

Young Johnny Locke found his way home
All the way puzzling how it could have been so.
How could he have missed them? When had they left?
He tried to recall the last thing that he saw.

Maidens dancing on the shore,
Was that really all he could remember?
There had to be something.
There had to be more.

Home at last he was surprised to find
The villagers, his neighbors, all gathered ’round.
Upon seeing him his mother cried out.
She dropped the spoon in her hand and ran to embrace him.

She scolded him for sneaking out
For putting her into such a fit.
He tried to explain, to tell her what happened,
Of the lake and it’s dancing maidens.

No one would listen,
They thought him to be ill.
He tried and he tried
But it was just no good.

As the excitement died down
And the villagers returned to their homes,
An elderly gentleman approached him,
And asked, “You’ve seen them, too?”