Encounter of the magic kind (I.P.)

Many tiny night wings
flitted above my head
a number of fair folk
lifted me from my bed

They carried me softly
with cool air round me
to this edge of a lake
playing a lively music
'til I was happy awake

Deep on top of a mountain
mist in the valleys below
we danced until a sunrise
turned the black sky blue
then clouds begin to show

I realised where I was almost at once
in the top of the red dragons volcano
where whoever stays night at the lake
he descend either a mad man or a poet
And with that, they took to the hills