To A Child
(Rosamund.)
The fairies have been busy while you slept;
They have been laughing where the sad rain wept,
They have taught Beauty to the ignorant flowers,
Set tasks of hope to weary wind-torn bowers,
And heard the lessons learned in school-rooms cold
By seedling snapdragon and marigold.
At dawn, while still you slept, I grew aware
How good the fairies are, how many and fair.
The fairy whose delightful gown is red
Across a corner of our garden sped,
And, where her flying raiment fluttered past,
Its roseate reflection still is cast:
Red poppies by the rhododendron's side,
Paeonies gorgeous in their summer pride,
And red may-bushes by the old red wall
Shower down their crimson petals over all.
Then she whose gown is gold, and gold her hair,
Swept down the golden steep straight sunbeam-stair,
She lit the tulip-lamps, she lit the torch
Of hollyhock beside the cottage porch.
She dressed the honeysuckle in fringe of gold,
She gave the king-cups fairy wealth to hold,
She kissed St. John's wort till it opened wide,
She set the yarrow by the river side.
Then came the lady all whose robes are white:
She made the pale buds blossom in delight,
Set silver stars upon the jasmine's hair,
And gave the stream white lily-buds to wear.
She painted lilies white, and pearl-white phlox,
White poppies, passion-flowers and gray-leaved stocks.
Her pure kind touch redeemed the most forlorn,
And even the vile petunia smiled, new-born.
The dearest fairy of all--green is her gown--
She kissed the plane-trees in the tiresome town,
She smoothed the pastures and the lawn's pale sheen,
She decked the boughs with hangings fresh and green,
She showed each flower the one and only way
Its beauty of shape and colour to display;
She taught the world to be a Paradise
Of changing leaf and blade, for tired eyes.
Then, one and all, they came where you were laid
In your strait bed, my little lovely maid;
The red-robed fairy kissed your lips, your face,
The white-robed made your heart her dwelling-place.
Into your eyes the green robed fairy smiled;
The golden fairy touched your dreams, my child,
And one, not named, but mightiest, made my Dear
The innermost rose of the re-flowered year.
poem by Edith Nesbit
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The Golden Rose
A POOR lost princess, weary and worn,
Came over the down by the wind-washed moor,
And the king looked out on her grace forlorn,
And he took her in at his palace door.
He made her queen, he gave her a crown,
Bidding her rest and be glad and gay
In his golden town, with a golden gown,
And a new gold lily every day.
But the crown is heavy, the gold gown gray,
And the queen's pale breast is like autumn snows;
For he brings a gold lily every day,
But no king gathers the golden rose.
One came at last to the palace keep
By worlds of water and leagues of land,
Gray were his garments, his eyes were deep,
And he held the golden rose in his hand.
She left gold gown, gold town, gold crown,
And followed him straight to a world apart,
And he left her asleep on the wind-washed down,
With the golden rose on her quiet heart.
poem by Edith Nesbit
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A Song Of Faries
Flitter flutter here and there
Flying high up in the air
Fairy dust is just so fragile
And the fairies flying are all so agile
And sparkles in the sun
Oh looking for fairies is so much fun
Under some rocks or under a pot
Flying around a twisted vine knot
Under the tree is where the fun begins
all of our faces bearing grins
That’s me and my fairy friends
They lead me to the river they lead me to its spring
The lead to their castle to see the fairy king
Its pearly white with lots of land
Wow this place is very grand
I hop inside to take a peek
Me and the fairies play hide and seek
That night I share a bedroom with a little girl called sky
I like her lots ‘cause she’s my friend even if she’s shy
The sun shines through my window bright as bright can be
I hop out of bed with a big sigh of glee
Because today’s the day when I go home
To where I live back in Italy, Rome
I wave goodbye to my fairy friends
And tie together all loose ends
So goodbye fairies I’ll visit you soon
In the dead of night under the misty moon
Chloe White, age 13
poem by Chloe White
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The Fairy's Promise
Poet.
Beautiful silver-winged spirits of good,
That hide in the leaves of the loneliest wood;
Green-kirtled fairies whom none may see
But the soul that hath passion for Poesie.
Brownies and kelpies and fays and elves
Who keep the moon to your own little selves;
Ye whose light revel and quick-tripping round
Bend the white daisy-buds down to the ground:
The moon may be high and the night may be clear,
But leave them and list to a poet's prayer.
Fairy.
Mortal, speak on! we have loved thee long,
Thou hast told of our revels in sweetest song;
And only, alas! by the faith of men
Hold we our lives in the grassy glen.
Thou hast never plucked daisy or heather-bell
From the emerald braes where the fairies dwell;
Thou didst never fright from her leafy nest
The bird that the Fairies love ever the best,
But hast turned thy foot aside silently
When her round black eye fell fearful on thee;
Thou hast never torn fishes with cruel hooks
From the pleasant ripple of summer brooks;
So we love thee well, and will list to thy prayer,
Though the moon may be up, and the night may be clear.
Poet.
White-footed Fairy-Queen, close by the sea,
Like a beautiful child at her father's knee,
There sitteth a city beneath a hill
Where a lady is living apart and still;
Lovely and gentle and wise is she,
I love her most truly and faithfully;
Better than all that the world may hold,
Better than honour and life and gold.
I would thou shouldst watch her by day and by night,
That her beautiful eyes may be ever bright.
Fairy.
How shall we know her, that we may keep
Watch of her waking, and ward of her sleep?
Poet.
Look for a lady whose glossy hair
Borders a forehead most frank and fair;
Eyes that are full of a heavenly light
Like sister stars in the front of night;
Lips curving red like the crimson fold
Of a half-shut rose in the early cold,
Which never with singing or speech were stirred,
But the singing and speech was the sweetest heard;
Busy white fingers, slender and small,
Little feet lost in her garments' fall.
Graces like these and a thousand above
Shall guide thee in seeking the lady I love.
Fairy.
What name weareth she? tell us it true;
Whisper it low to the fairy crew.
Poet.
Read it, sweet Queen, on my beating heart,
Graven so deep, it can never part;
This shall be sign of the lady ye seek,
Say to her 'Janet' and she shall speak.
Fairy.
Fifty and four of my valiant fays
Shall watch in her walks through the weariest days;
Fifty and four in their liveries white
Have charge of her dreams in the dreariest night.
And the spirit that doth not his bidding well
Shall pine for the year in a dark nut shell.
Poet.
And may two of the truest at either ear
Whisper his name who hath sent them there!
Fairy.
Ay! and the fleetest shall come on the wind
Bringing thee news of thy lady's mind;
Rest thee well, lover! be quiet and calm;
Thy lady is charmed with the Fairies' charm.
poem by Edwin Arnold
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Fairy Tale (age 14)
'Above the shadow is the moon no further then the sun
As I sit under the big willow hoping a Fairy Tale has begun
Giant stars flutter through the sky as graceful as a dove
Hoping the everlasting Elf will find his true love
The wind shoves the Fairy dust around making it a sparkly night
As I fall in love with the Elf and his everlasting life
The sweet falling rain collides on us again
As our lips touch so softly making a Fairy Tale begin
But all the Fairies wonder refusing our desire
Judging every step we take putting out our fire
We will fade from this dark magic this sprinkle in the sky
As we swear upon each other to love until we die
Forgetting the world around me leaving without a trace
I’d do anything to keep the silky motions of your face
The velvet rose brings out the softness in your skin
I want you to hold me forever as we whisper to the wind
Forever is forever with a twinkle in the eye
Hoping the Fairy Tale we made will never ever die
The green leaves and white lilies rush down the falls
We are free from all the thorns and the tall rock walls
Beneath the moon is where the Fairy Tale began
Flying in the air freely hand in hand
Love of silver fire shimmers in our eyes
For the world of free affection is where the Fairy Tale truly lies! '
© 2006 JESSICA C. GALVAN (All rights reserved)
poem by Jessica C. Galvan
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A Flower To Auroville Mother-77
Rain Lily Rose(Zephyranthes rosea)
Primrose Rain Lily(Zephyranthes primulina)
Yellow Rain Lily(Zephyranthes citrina)
Fairy Lily(pink rain lily, Zephyranthes carinata)
Fairy Lily(white rain lily, Zephyranthes candida)
Ah, o'dear I found you at Kalakad
Brought and planted in my yard
Knowing not then much of matter
About you and your family fatter
And when you grew prettily wide
Rain God in love one day pattered
Awesome to see you basked in joy
Blossoming making me too enjoy
You were rose with sister yellow
White or pink or primrose yellow-
Somewhere yonder all far farther
Only you rose and yellow together
Short and flared yellow upward
Potted or fielded grassy leaved
Small and green throated lily rose
To green tube funneled rosy tepals
O'rain lilies, so yellow and rose
Bloom, bloom often by rainy showers
Bordered or potted or clumped lot
Gathered in gentle bliss in my heart
poem by Indira Renganathan
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The Flowers
All the names I know from nurse:
Gardener's garters, Shepherd's purse,
Bachelor's buttons, Lady's smock,
And the Lady Hollyhock.
Fairy places, fairy things,
Fairy woods where the wild bee wings,
Tiny trees for tiny dames--
These must all be fairy names!
Tiny woods below whose boughs
Shady fairies weave a house;
Tiny tree-tops, rose or thyme,
Where the braver fairies climb!
Fair are grown-up people's trees,
But the fairest woods are these;
Where, if I were not so tall,
I should live for good and all.
poem by Robert Louis Stevenson
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I Try To Think Why Her Answer Always Ends In A No
May be she is trapped inside a water droplet
Resting on a green leaf
Of a rose plant
in the eden garden
The garden has a fairy
the fairy has a curse
the curse has a name
the name has a price
There are witches in the story
The witches are very bad
They rob the the flowers of smell
And kill the fairy’s smile
One day, a little boy
with a little heart
and two teddy bears
walks along that way
He kisses and walk -
The jasmine and the daisies
The lilac and the lilies
The roses and the fairies.
The rose has a name
It holds a dropp of love
The kiss is a game
Pushes the dropp of love
The lady in the droplet
Falls down the leaves
The boy leaps down
To hold it before breaks
The droplet breaks
The water splinters
the boy drops his heart
and break it into pieces
The girl is freed
The boy is dying
The girl does cry
The boy does smile
The fairy is sad
The witches are mad
The fairies are hot
The witches are not
The flowers smell beautiful
The fairy can smile
The curse is broken
The price has been paid
The battle is set,
The flowers decide to bet
The fairies will rollover
But witches are no pushover.
The fight is fought
The witches are lost
The fairies win
And everybody grins
The boy is dead
With a broken heart
The fairies believe
They can bring him back
The fairies promise
About magic and sorcery
The life is simple
We can buy again like grocery
The shopping is a trap
You buy one
You get one free.
Here the witches are free
The girl is trapped
Between pain and love
She things again
And decides its a no
poem by Chelliah Pandian
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Madona Mia
UNDER green apple-boughs
That never a storm will rouse,
My lady hath her house
Between two bowers;
In either of the twain
Red roses full of rain;
She hath for bondwomen
All kind of flowers.
She hath no handmaid fair
To draw her curled gold hair
Through rings of gold that bear
Her whole hair’s weight;
She hath no maids to stand
Gold-clothed on either hand;
In all the great green land
None is so great.
She hath no more to wear
But one white hood of vair
Drawn over eyes and hair,
Wrought with strange gold,
Made for some great queen’s head,
Some fair great queen since dead;
And one strait gown of red
Against the cold.
Beneath her eyelids deep
Love lying seems asleep,
Love, swift to wake, to weep,
To laugh, to gaze;
Her breasts are like white birds,
And all her gracious words
As water-grass to herds
In the June-days.
To her all dews that fall
And rains are musical;
Her flowers are fed from all,
Her joy from these;
In the deep-feathered firs
Their gift of joy is hers,
In the least breath that stirs
Across the trees.
She grows with greenest leaves,
Ripens with reddest sheaves,
Forgets, remembers, grieves,
And is not sad;
The quiet lands and skies
Leave light upon her eyes;
None knows her, weak or wise,
Or tired or glad.
None knows, none understands,
What flowers are like her hands;
Though you should search all lands
Wherein time grows,
What snows are like her feet,
Though his eyes burn with heat
Through gazing on my sweet,
Yet no man knows.
Only this thing is said;
That white and gold and red,
God’s three chief words, man’s bread
And oil and wine,
Were given her for dowers,
And kingdom of all hours,
And grace of goodly flowers
And various vine.
This is my lady’s praise:
God after many days
Wrought her in unknown ways,
In sunset lands;
This was my lady’s birth;
God gave her might and mirth
And laid his whole sweet earth
Between her hands.
Under deep apple-boughs
My lady hath her house;
She wears upon her brows
The flower thereof;
All saying but what God saith
To her is as vain breath;
She is more strong than death,
Being strong as love.
poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
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The Rose Fairy
When God created the very first rose,
All the forest fairies were thrilled!
They formed a queue to line up for a smell,
Each swooning at its delightful fragrance.
The king of the fairies called them to his throne,
Reminding them that each flower is blessed,
With each one appointed its own fairy...
But who could they choose for the rose! ?
All the fairies not yet appointed flew near,
Each pointing to herself as the right choice!
Then the queen of the fairies calmed them down,
'Settle down, impetuous ones! ' she said...
So all the female fairies flapped their wings no more,
Settling once again upon the ground...
'Come, come! ' she scolded! 'None of you will do! '
The fairies' faces went blood red with shame!
The king looked at them in turn, loving them all.
Such enthusiasm, such devotion, but who would do?
The queen pointed directly to the king himself!
'You, Your Majesty, you must be the rose fairy! '
'What! ? ' remarked the king! 'That's unheard of! '
She held his hand with love and told him,
'There's no-one greater than you for this rose! '
The fairies leapt with joy! Flying here and there!
Doing athletics flips and backward somersaults!
When the king saw the joy of all the fairies, he smiled.
He was humbled by this wondrous spectacle
And he stood up, wiped away a tiny tear and told them,
'Never has a king been so blessed as I feel today! '
And so it was that the rose fairy was announced.
And God looked down upon the fairies in the forest
And smiled... and smiled... and smiled...
Denis Martindale, copyright, June 2012.
poem by Denis Martindale
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Gipsy
The poppies that in Spring I sow,
In rings of radiance gleam and glow,
Like lords and ladies gay.
A joy are they to dream beside,
As in the air of eventide
They flutter, dip and sway.
For some are scarlet, some are gold,
While some in fairy flame unfold,
And some are rose and white.
There's pride of breeding in their glance,
And pride of beauty as they dance
Cotillions of delight.
Yet as I lift my eyes I see
Their swarthy kindred wild and free.
Who flaunt it in the field.
"Begone, you Romanies!" I say,
"Lest you defile this bright array
Whose loveliness I shield."
My poppies are a sheen of light;
They take with ecstasy the sight,
And hold the heart elate . . . .
Yet why do I so often turn
To where their outcast brothers burn
With passion at my gate?
My poppies are my joy and pride;
Yet wistfully I gaze outside
To where their sisters yearn;
Their blowzy crimson cups afire,
Their lips aflutter with desire
To give without return.
My poppies dance a minuet;
Like courtiers in silk they set
My garden all aglow . . . .
Yet O the vagrants at my gate!
The gipsy trulls who peer and wait! . . .
Calling the heart they know.
poem by Robert William Service
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Fairies On The Sea Shore. By Howard
FIRST FAIRY.
MY home and haunt are in every leaf,
Whose life is a summer day, bright and brief,--
I live in the depths of the tulip's bower,
I wear a wreath of the cistus flower,
I drink the dew of the blue harebell,
I know the breath of the violet well,--
The white and the azure violet;
But I know not which is the sweetest yet,--
I have kiss'd the cheek of the rose;
I have watch'd the lily unclose,
My silver mine is the almond tree,
Who will come dwell with flower and me?
CHORUS OF FAIRIES.
Dance we our round, 'tis a summer night,
And our steps are led by the glow-worms' light.
SECOND FAIRY.
My dwelling is in the serpentine
Of the rainbow's colour'd line,--
See how its rose and amber clings
To the many hues of my radiant wings;
Mine is the step that bids the earth
Give to the iris flower its birth,
And mine the golden cup to hide,
Where the last faint hue of the rainbow died.
Search the depths of an Indian mine,
Where are the colours to match with mine?
CHORUS.
Dance we round, for the gale is bringing
Songs the summer rose is singing.
THIRD FAIRY.
I float on the breath of a minstrel's lute,
Or the wandering sounds of a distant flute,
Linger I over the tones that swell
From the pink-vein'd chords of an ocean-shell;
I love the sky-lark's morning hymn,
Or the nightingale heard at the twilight dim,
The echo, the fountain's melody,--
These, oh! these are the spells for me!
CHORUS.
Hail to the summer night of June;
See! yonder has risen our ladye moon.
FOURTH SPIRIT.
My palace is in the coral cave
Set with spars by the ocean wave;
Would ye have gems, then seek them there,--
There found I the pearls that bind my hair.
I and the wind together can roam
Over the green waves and their white foam,--
See, I have got this silver shell,
Mark how my breath will its smallness swell,
For the Nautilus is my boat
In which I over the waters float,--
The moon is shining over the sea,
Who is there will come sail with me?
CHORUS OF FAIRIES.
Our noontide sleep is on leaf and flower,
Our revels are held in a moonlit hour,--
What is there sweet, what is there fair,
And we are not the dwellers there?
Dance we round, for the morning light,
Will put us and our glow-worm lamps to flight!
poem by Letitia Elizabeth Landon
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Faeriedell (A Children's Rhyme) .
Do you believe in Fairies’ thoughts, do you believe in spells?
You see their thoughts wisp through the air, down by Faeriedell,
Look carefully and you will see them, sitting in their trees
Laughing, smiling, telling tales, just doing as they please.
Make your choice and wisely choose, the one that takes your eye
But please beware, you must take care and never tell a lie.
They’re inquisitive, they’ll question you so be honest and be true
And if you do they’ll grant a wish, especially for you.
You’ll see her flying through the air or skim across the pond
Pretty clothes and golden wings flapping way beyond
The tallest tree in the dell resting on its leaves
You’ll see this much and much, much more, if you will just believe.
You see her with her little bag, flitting in the night
Her wings are now, all lit up, and shine the brightest white
You’ll see her sprinkle stardust, the twinkle just like stars
And moonbeams shoot across the dell like rays of silver bars.
Music plays and songs are sung as she does her fairy dance
Skipping over velvet chairs, her friends all clap their hands
They all sit on their favourite seats, joining in the fun
But they all know it must end soon with the coming of the sun.
When dawn breaks they dive into their pond, to greet a brand new day
Some sit on wide lily pads as others rest or play.
The young are chasing rainbows to catch a fairy dream
And the older ones make magic wands whilst sitting by the stream.
Leaping purest puffy clouds, like balls of cotton wool
They’re edged with silver lining to keep the fairies cool
As frolicking in moondust leaves a fairy feeling warm
And she needs to be in spritely shape to use her magic charm.
The Wishing Well is full of gold so someone has to stay
To guard against the evil imps for they’ll steal it all away
Fairies have no need for gold, there’s nothing here to buy
And they can’t go outside Faeriedell for they will surely die.
Fairies live a thousand years, so they’re very old and wise
But look so young and beautiful because they don’t tell lies
So if you see a fairy, no-one should you tell
For you’ve been granted your first wish, you’ve been to Faeriedell.
poem by Paul Colvin
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Dancing with the fairies
Walking through the fields
I saw a fairy dancing.
The fairy was so pretty
Dancing in the moonlight.
Translucent were the wings
Majestic was her dress.
Her hair, the wind did ruffle
A melody, her lips released.
Then the fairy took notice
Of my ever present eyes.
And so she called to me
To come and dance with her.
She starts to dance once more
Leaping through the air.
I followed her and twirled
And tried to dance like her.
Then a million fairies
Suddenly did appear.
A million tiny voices
Singing a tiny harmony.
Such a magnificent sight it was
Such a lovely dance.
Their tiny bodies flitting
And dancing in the moonlight.
I jumped and leaped and twirled
Dancing with the fairies.
I danced there in the starlight
With a million pretty fairies.
Time flew by and all too soon
The sun awoke and peaked at us.
The fairies stopped their dancing
And flew away for home.
But one fairy stayed behind
She did not go to bed.
She looked at me with sparkling eyes
The wonderful dancing fairy.
I saw her eyes did twinkle
And her hair in the wind did wave.
And then she dipped a curtsy
And on her way she flew.
That little dancing fairy.
poem by Mariya Shostak
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Sorry, O Little Fairy!
O fairy! O fairy! O little fairy!
I extremely feel grief and sorry;
You so heartily gave me the invitation;
I could not attend your celebration.
To come to you I’d the leisure although,
The circumstance did not allow;
I’ve ne'er seen you nor e'er met;
From someone about you heard a lot.
About your mischiefs like a fawn you do,
About your blossom-like smile-
About your tears like the pearl;
And the heart-attracting innocence of you.
Now in heart a wish and on lips a prayer,
O little fairy! I may see you soon somewhere
poem by Shuaib Saifi
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Mistletoe
Sitting under the mistletoe
(Pale-green, fairy mistletoe),
One last candle burning low,
All the sleepy dancers gone,
Just one candle burning on,
Shadows lurking everywhere:
Some one came, and kissed me there.
Tired I was; my head would go
Nodding under the mistletoe
(Pale-green, fairy mistletoe),
No footsteps came, no voice, but only,
Just as I sat there, sleepy, lonely,
Stooped in the still and shadowy air
Lips unseen - and kissed me there.
poem by Walter de la Mare
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A Beautiful Fairy And The Fairy Dust Rain
Around this time of the year
The arrival of Spring is near
The arrival of Spring is almost here
And I'll happily be one with the spirits of nature
I'll completely embrace the magic of spring
As well as the wonder of nature
And the many other worldly pleasures
Around this time of the year
I await the fairy dust rain
Surrounded by trees and flowers
And many other things that are green
I await the arrival of the fairy dust rain
And many other sights of nature just waiting to be seen
A beautiful fairy flutters down from the sky
And lands down in front of me
She's almost as tall as me
We greet each other
And our hopes are the same
As we wait for the fairy dust rain
In the meantime
The beautiful fairy shows me her gifts of magic
And shares her knowledge with me as well
After periods of time have gone by
Fairy dust begins to rain down from the sky
The fairy dust rain has finally arrived
And we share the smiles and laughter
You ask me for a dance
And I don't hesitate to pass up this chance
We dance
Surrounded by flowers
Surrounded by trees
Surrounded by the fairy dust rain
After dancing
We look into each other's eyes
And then up to the skies
As the fairy dust rain continues to fall
Our eyes then return to each other
And we share a hug
You flutter your wings a little
Shaking off some of the fairy dust that's covered them
You tell me you're staying with me
At least for the time being right now
Little by little
We're being lightly covered in the fairy dust rain
Beautiful fairy
I must say that these moments we share
They're memorable and precious
You echo your feelings and sentiments to me as well
As the fairy dust rain continues to fill the air
Side by side
We stand together
Loving what's happening
But most importantly
We enjoy the sight of the fairy dust rain
poem by Justin Gildow
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Holly Bush
The Holly Bush
It was in the depth of winter
When snow lay crisp upon the ground
That I saw the tiny creatures
Which fluttered all around.
I stepped into the garden
To see what the fuss was all about.
There was a fairy trapped in my holly bush
And her friends were trying to pull her out.
But the sharp leaves stabbed at wings
And they tangled up long hair
As the fairies attempted their rescue.
They weren’t getting anywhere.
The fairies saw me on the garden path
And that I was getting near
They hid behind my chimney stack
And cried aloud in fear.
‘Stop being silly now, ’ I told them
As I carefully pulled the fairy free.
‘My name is Buttercup’, she said
As she explained to me.
That she had been stealing the berries
To plant down in the wood
Because there was no holly left.
She was really trying to be good.
‘People like holly for Christmas
But some of them dig up all the trees.
They don’t leave anything for the birds
So, can we have some berries, please.’
I did not want my little friend
To take another fall
So I helped to pick some berries
And said I did not mind at all.
The other fairies came to thank me
Then taking a berry each, off they flew
But Buttercup waited by my side
There was something else she had to do.
She waved her hand up in the air
And her dress changed to green and red
‘This will remind me of your holly bush
And your kindness, ’ the fairy said.
So, if you find a fairy in your garden
With a dress of red and green
Please, allow her to steal some berries
For it is my friend that you have seen.
poem by Irene C S ClarkHogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Flightless (age 16)
*On that glorious night an 'Angel' appeared
With eyes as green as the exotic mountains
The 'Angel' sparkled like the beautiful stars that the world got trapped beneathe
Soaring through the gental hum of the night breeze
The 'Angel' saw the most beautiful 'Fairy' ever seen
All life had stopped as the 'Angel' flew down beside the beauty
The 'Fairy' was laying on the ground with broken wings
Startled by the 'Angel', the 'Fairy' sat up with tears of emptiness
With each fall of pain, it stained the earth; it stained the air
The 'Angel' looked upon the 'Fairy' mesmorized at those 'burning eyes'
Gazing up at the 'Angel' with complete adoration
For the 'Fairy' had never seen such beauty, such gorgeousness
The 'Angel' stood there infatuated
They both fell into eachothers eyes; into their souls
As though the rest of the world had been obliterated from all existance
Eye meets eye, beauty meets beauty
The 'Fairy's' pain vastly turned to passionate respect
So much energy without a single touch
For it would be a Dream to be touched by one so ostentaious
They closed their eyes and percieved eachothers soul
Inches away from one anothers warmth
They looked longingly into eachothers mysterious eyes
Then the 'Angel' grabbed the 'Fairy's' hand with passion
The 'Fairy' touched the 'Angel's' velvet skin
Such exoticness filled the air as their mystical souls embraced
They were captivated only able to see one another
The 'Angel' of beauty held Me closely as we erotically kissed under the moodlight
For his intoxicating eyes, his glorifying smile, and his gorgeous mind is all that I needed
He helped me fly again
That 'Angel' helped me fly!
© 2006 JESSICA C. GALVAN (All rights reserved)
poem by Jessica C. Galvan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Lost Embassy
THE lilies lean to the white, white rose,
The sweet limes send to the blossomed trees,
Soft kisses borne by the golden bees--
And all the world is alive, awake,
And glad to the heart for the summer's sake.
From her tower window the Princess leant,
Where the white light butterflies came and went;
She dropped soft kisses by twos and threes:
'White butterflies mine, will you carry these
To my Prince in prison? for they, who knows,
May break the spell that has held him close
And wake him and win him to stand up free
And laugh--in the sun--with me!'
White lilies, gold in the golden sun,
White Princess, gold in your golden gown--
Far off lies the sad, enchanted town!
Bright wings, light wings, white wings that tire,
Though they carry the flower of the heart's desire--
Will you trust to these, too white, too slight
To bring back the fruit of heart's delight?
All round and about the spell-bound town
The ways are dusty, the woods are brown;
There are no green coverts, no welcoming flowers
For little weary butterfly wings,
No dew, no lilies, no glad live things.
'Neath the sky of steel and the brazen sun
White wings, kiss-laden, dropped one by one:
By twos and threes they dropped by the way,
And only one reached the grim, gray tower
Where, witched from his kingdom, the poor Prince lay--
One poor tired butterfly, smirched and gray
With the dust of the town and the weary way,
And it lit on the Prince's hand and died.
'Bright wings, light wings, white wings,' he cried
'You, only you, might have lived and borne
My prayer to my love in her tower forlorn,
And brought back the kiss that could set me free--
She might have broken the spell that lies
On my foolish heart and my foolish eyes--
But no live butterflies come my way!'
The winds are cold and the skies are gray,
And all the lilies died yesterday;
The Princess leans from her steel-wrought tower
To watch for her butterflies hour by hour.
Poor little Princess, you watch in vain!
Butterflies die where the green wood browns,
And kisses sent to enchanted towns
Never come home again.
poem by Edith Nesbit
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Fanciful Dream
I left my love in the Fairy Glen
Home of the litte fairy men
I met her there on a July night
When a Summer moon was beaming bright.
For my love was the Fairy Queen
In Fairyland she reign supreme
She wore a glittering diamond cloak
Queen of the little fairy folk.
Though the night was bright it was bright as day
In a wooded vale I lost my way
Then I sat me down by a tall oak tree
And the Fairy Queen she came to me.
I gazed upon this fairy small
She stood scarcely more than two foot tall
Tiny shoes covered her tiny feet
And she bowed towards me in a fairy greet
Her pretty little face showed no trace of woe
And her hair was white as new fallen snow
And her eyes were sparkling bright and brown
And on her head she wore a tiny crown.
Then she smiled at me and this did say
You're in Fairyland you have lost your way
Sorry to disturb you from your rest
Come along with me and be my guest.
Then she led me to the fairy ball
To a fairy dance in a fairy hall
All the fairy folk were dancing there
And fairy music filled the air.
But when we stepped inside the fairy dance hall door
A hushed silence fell across the floor
Fairy men and women scarce one third my size
All looked up at me with fear in their eyes.
But their Queen she spoke to them and said
Of this gentle giant you need hold no dread
I met him in the oak tree shade
Into Fairyland he has somehow strayed.
Then the fairy band started playing anew
And the fairy folk started dancing too
Round and round the dance floor they did wheel
To the haunting sound of a fairy reel.
I have never seen people quite so gay
As these little fairies in their bright array
These happy folk did laugh and sing
As they danced around in a fairy ring.
Then I left the ball with the Fairy Queen
And we strolled the banks of a moonlit stream
I stooped to kiss her but she was gone
And by the moonlit stream I stood alone.
The alarm clock rang and I awoke
And my spell of fantasy was broke
I awoke to a World of reality
From a Fairyland of fantasy.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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