Oh Say. Can you see? for Friend Thad
Oh say can you see
At night, when I should be sleeping.
From my window slyly peeping
I can see the fairies dance.
I’m not afraid to take a chance
that the fairies might see me.
Because I know they are friendly.
They have no reason to fear me.
They do not mind that I can see.
Why should they mind they know quite well
there is nobody I can tell
Who would believe that I had seen
the fairies dancing on the green.
I know that grownups cannot see
what children see so easily
Though adults do not seem to mind
they do not know that they are blind.
Their childish innocence once lost
can’t be replaced at any cost.
So they dismiss as fantasy
the fairies they no longer see.
But in their blindness they insist
that fairy folk do not exist
All children in their wisdom know.
Grown ups are wrong it isn’t so.
Most adults are convinced they’re right
but some few have retained their sight.
They see the world as children see,
Accepting as reality.
the evidence of their own eyes
and you will too if you are wise.
11/04/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Age restrictions apply for M lady Ernestine
The boundaries which lie between
the worlds of fact and fantasy.
Remain in place although unseen
by unbelievers easily.
All children know they can pass through
to roam at will in fairyland.
Something which adults cannot do.
Because the children understand
the rules which keep the adults out.
Do not apply to them at all,
that they’re welcome they have no doubt.
To answer when the fairies call.
Come one come all, it’s time to play
today’s a fairy holiday.
14-May-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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I believe 2012
When moonlight filters through the trees.
I sometimes hear sweet melodies.
Carried towards me on the breeze.
Music guaranteed to please.
It comes from where the fairies dance.
I'm not afraid to take a chance.
To follow it and steal a glance.
Which would do nothing but enhance.
My belief that fairies do exist.
A fact that others may resist.
Despite the legend that persist.
Although I am a realist.
And not some dreaming fantasist.
I claim to be a pragmatist.
Wednesday,15 February 2012.
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Preview for New Friend Amy
I had an imaginary friend.
Although she seemed quite real to me.
Someone on whom I could depend
always and absolutely.
As I grew up and made real friends
She faded out quite gradually
I must suppose as childhood ends
so does our youthful fantasy
I kept her picture in mind.
Albeit quite unconsciously
When in due course I tried to find
the ideal girl to marry me.
I found my child hood friend again.
No longer imaginary,
and I began to wonder then
if she too had imagined me.
Perhaps we were allowed to see
When in our childish innocence
what in the future was to be.
It seemed to us to make good sense.
We wed and raised a family
I still love her and she loves me.
We live together happily.
And on this subject we agree.
It was intended we should wed
as we would do eventually.
We were allowed to see ahead
as children do with clarity.
Before they’re taught it cannot be
by adults who have forgotten how
very clearly younger children see.
Because they only see the now..
The future is a mystery
that adults cannot penetrate.
Though children can quite easily
Perceive what is to be their future fate.
At least we two believe it’s true
Though other folk may disagree
What you believe is up to you
We may be wrong quite possibly.
14-Jan-09
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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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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The Fairy Dance
Down by the lake
Where the weeping willows rest
Where no-one goes
The fairies dance
At midnight
When the inky sky
Is sprinkled with stars
The fairies dance
They sit on toadstools
Wear clothes made of petals
And round the flowers
The fairies dance
On the lake
Boats made of leaves
And all around
The fairies dance
They stay till dawn
When the sun rises
But under the inky sky
The fairies dance
poem by Amy Darnbrook
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I Believe In Fairies
THERE ARE FAIRIES AMONG US
LIGHT ON THEIR FEET, DANCING AROUND,
WITH LITTLE FLUTTERING GREEN WINGS
THEY LIFT UP OFF THE GROUND.
THEY TOUCH OUR SHOULDERS
AS THEY SPIN AND SWIRL ABOUT,
WEARING LITTLE GOLDEN SLIPPERS
THEY CIRCLE US I HAVE NO DOUBT.
I HAVE FELT THEIR DELICATE TOUCH
AS THEY WHISPERED SOFTLY IN MY EAR,
DON'T EVER STOP BELIEVING IN FAIRIES
I KNOW THEY ARE OFTEN QUITE NEAR.
HAVE YOU EVER SEEN A LIGHT MOVEMENT
HEARD A BREEZE STIR MAKING A SOFT SIGH,
I KNOW IT IS A LITTLE PRANCING FAIRY
AS SHE IS PASSING VERY CLOSE BY.
I BELIEVE IN THE MAGIC FAIRIES
FLOWERS PEDALS THEY SLEEP IN,
THEY TOUCH OUR LIVES DAILY
THEY VISIT ME AGAIN AND AGAIN.
THEY VISIT LITTLE CHILDREN WHILE THEY SLEEP
ALL THEY HAVE TO DO IS BELIEVE,
TO NOT HAVE A LITTLE FAIRY NEAR ME
I WOULD TRULY BE SAD AND GRIEVE.
ON A STROLL THROUGH THE GARDEN
WHILE THE DEW JEWELS ARE STILL THERE,
WATCH FOR THE LITTLE FAIRIES IN THEIR TINY CROWNS
TO NOT FRIGHTEN THEM - YOU MUST TAKE CARE.
poem by Aashka Thakkar
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Gopies, Like, Fairies Dance
1. Let us form a ring
2. Flowers would we offer In prayer: Trust we not The strangers!
3. Jostled with Him in dance
4. Pearls for tears, They shed ! In measured steps and, rhythmic movement
5. Receptive mind's and shaky feet, He may Stabalize !
6. Bewitched by the bright lamp The butterfly O, When'll we be mad after The madman (The Lord!)
7. Bare-footed in woods in blazing heat and Blistered over---Hot roads
8. How hard is to Speak the Truth (This much) revelation Even after self -realisation The desire to probe, What else is said',
Still persists!
And dance like Fairies bright
Lord Krishana to awaken From Slumber! And dance like Fairies bright.
Solaced and soothed is He And dance like Fairies bright!
Piles of emeralds they build!
May we dance like Fairies bright.
Induce compassion in Krishna, It may! And dance like Fairies bright
Dances around and Gives its life in the dance!
And merge like it with Him.
In the ecstasy of the dance Around Him! Weary and Exhausted'ld those Krishna Bhakhta become May we dance like Fairies bright! Who has's been blessed with The Parma Ananda?
And dance like Fairies bright!
poem by Swami Parmanand
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Folklore for Children (1) and (2)
(1)
Won't you listen in my garden
to the tapping dancing feet
and the singing of the fairies
playing violins so sweet?
Won't you listen to the pixies
and the fairy queen's refrain,
songs of romance, songs of folklore
or do the fairies sing in vain?
Come and join these mystic beings
with pretty wings of fairest hue
delightful elves and friendly fairies
will sing and dance each day for you.
(2)
Down in yonder Elfin Park
Fairies play upon the swing.
Mother nature makes her mark
Saying 'au revoir' to spring.
Summertime is entering in
Fairy Queen begins to sing
No longer dark in Elfin Park
Sunbeams light the fairy ring.
Pretty Queen has lost her heart
True love to her is everything
And if we walk through Elfin Park
Bells will surely 'ting-a-ling'.
poem by Joyce Hemsley
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Where Do The Fairies Go?
I was eating a fairy cake the other morn, when I thought I wonder if it's true that for every baby born, a fairy god mother is sworn.
Well now I have grown up, can I still speak to the fairies or am I just away with?
I seem to think I know they are there, but where have they gone?
I don't remember ever seeing one, what do they look like, are they pixies, elves or just plain sprite?
I have heard is possible to see, but that is only by those who believe, or is it just for those inclined spiritually?
Well my fairy cake tasted just nice. Maybe the cake is blessed by fairies, hence their name, or maybe fairies are just another bed-time story again?
poem by Steven Robinson
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Five Friendly Flitterbye Fairies!
Five friendly fairies were twiddling their thumbs!
Agreeing quite wisely how tedium numbs!
'If only the humans believed we exist,
They'd wish on a star and our aid they'd enlist!
They'd welcome us fairies as five friendly folks!
They'd tell us new stories and jovial jokes!
They'd pour out their sorrows and thank God we cared!
They'd offer us sweeties for wisdom we shared!
They'd bring back the sparkle that once filled our wings!
They'd listen to songs that each flitterbye sings!
Us flitterbyes sit on their rooftops each night!
We know all their dreams while we're hid out of sight!
We used to be famous in forests worldwide!
But Man has sawed trees down, where can we abide?
If only us fairies could help in some way!
We can't keep on twiddling our thumbs night and day!
Let's help their computers! Let's send their emails!
Let's lead them to tutors! Both males and females!
If not, we'll all perish, forgotten, dismissed!
For nobody loves what has ceased to persist! '
So up stood the fairies as friendly could be,
Determined to help with elect trickery!
Bearing new emails they flew across space
Taking each thought to that one special place,
That one special person who loves fairies, too!
God blesses flitterbyes! How about YOU! ?
poem by Denis Martindale
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Granny's Angel
In my grand baby world she
Dream of pink butterflies and
Angel with golden wings playing
And singing sweet lullabies
She dream of sweet sugar plums
And lollipops dancing around her
Head
She dream of fairies, white doves
And pink butterflies
With wings tips of gold
Gold and silver dust sprinkling
Down as they open their wings
She dream of little fairies tickling
Little feet
Her joy shows as her laughter cries
Out
Bouncing around with little fairies
Playing and singing sweet lullabies
Her eyes of blue, as deep as the sky
Looking up at the golden half moon
Hanging so high
Stars of silver and golden threads flickers
Durning the night
Unicorns and fairies playing in a
Field of clovers
With pink ribbons and bows
She dreams of pink butterflies as she lay
In her crib sleeping
Dreaming of sweet nothings
Fairies, butterflies and little
Angels with unicorns in her world
As she sleeps in her little world
Where fantasy is true
Her little sisters and brothers
All angels in heavens
Where her world is all but a beautiful
Dream
As she grow and flourish to be a wife
A mother
And tell her stories to her children in
The future
Dedicated To My Grand Baby Miya
poem by Carolyn Sears
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Cinderella
A lonely child with toil o’ertaxed,
Sits Cinderella by the fire;
Her limbs in weariness relaxed,
And in her eyes a sad desire.
But soon a wreath is on her brow;
A bonny prince has claimed her hand;
And she’s as proud and happy now
As any lady in the land.
Ah, then to see a fairy bright,
And to have granted what you would,
You only needed to do right,
You only needed to be good.
But this was in the days of old,
When man to wiser folk would bow;
And though you were as good as gold
You’d never see a fairy now.
And yet they must have managed well
If only half the tales are true,
The wondrous tales the writers tell
Of what the fairies used to do.
But now the world has grown so wise
It does without the fairies’ aid;
And who can find a prince that tries
The shoe upon a beggar maid?
It must have been a better time
When virtue always met its due,
And “wicked men who dealt in crime”
Were punished by the fairies, too.
But never more they’ll come again
To give the good what they desire;
And Cinderellas wait in vain,
And weep beside the kitchen fire.
poem by Henry Lawson
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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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Dual Personality for C.P.Sharma
Dual Personality
Sometimes I try to concentrate.
My mind decides to deviate
and gaily goes its sweet way
Against my will I have to say.
Although I love to fantasise
I often find to my surprise.
My mind is playing tricks on me.
Accepting as reality.
Strange things which cannot possibly
exist outside of fantasy.
Perhaps my mind is free to go
to places that I cannot know.
Bound by my frame of reference.
To where there is no difference.
Reality and fantasy
can coexist quite happily.
Am I my mind? Is my mind me?
It seems to me quite possibly.
My mind does not depend on me.
An independent entity
which is quite free to come and go.
I am convinced it must be so.
Although I know I’m always me.
My mind remains a mystery.
Am I my mind? Is my mind me?
I ponder on it frequently.
It seems to work efficiently
but how it does still baffles me.
12-Oct-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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I believe in Fairies too for M lady Ernestine
Sometimes at night across the sky.
I see the silver dragons fly.
Although not everyone can see
the dragons dancing gracefully.
My friends think I have lost the plot
but I assure them I have not.
I don’t know why they cannot see
what is so very clear to me.
Perhaps I have an open mind
and they do not, so they are blind.
Moonlight reflecting on their scales.
This is a sight that never fails
to make me stop and realise.
Some cannot see though they have eyes.
They don’t believe the evidence
of their own eyes. It makes no sense.
Because they can’t believe it’s true
and won’t adjust their point of view.
But I believe and I can see
the dragons flying easily.
When twilight falls if you just try,
you too will see them fly
Unless you too, have closed your
mind and don’t believe in dragon kind.
2-Jul-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Fairies Come A-calling
winter fairies come
a-calling
faces pressed window panes
twinkling
frost makes lacy prints
glittering
light snow pristine pure
falling
world young life fresh
breathing
winter fairies come
a-calling
spring fairies come
a-calling
birds return twig nests
building
flowers open petals pink
blooming
fresh life everywhere
springing
pink green blue pale
coloring
easter eggs painted coats
hiding
spring fairies come
a-calling
summer fairies come
a-calling
evenings teem fireflies
sparkling
watermelon opens red
eating
grass crisps green gold
waving
wind soft thunder nights
lightning
ocean swim hazy twilights
fishing
summer fairies come
a-calling
autumn fairies come
a-calling
colors ripe red gold
falling
harvest pumpkins orange
picking
apples delicious fresh
tasting
leaves underfoot piles
crackling
autumn fairies come
a-calling
poem by Sophia White
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There may be fairies at the bottom of the garden. There is no evidence for it, but you can't prove that there aren't any, so shouldn't we be agnostic with respect to fairies?
quote by Richard Dawkins
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fairies Wear Boots
Goin home, late last night
Suddenly I got a fright
Yeah I looked through the window and surprised what I saw
Fairy boots were dancing with a dwarf,
All right now!
Fairies wear boots and you gotta believe me
Yeah I saw it, I saw it, I tell you no lies
Yeah fairies wear boots and you gotta believe me
I saw it, I saw it with my own two eyes,
Well all right now!
So I went to the doctor
See what he could give me
He said son, son, youve gone too far.
cause smokin and trippin is all that you do.
song performed by by Black Sabbath
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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 magic of snow
Snowflakes dance like white fairies of old
Each one a treasure to behold
Far more precious than spectrums of stone
For stones, anytime, the rich can easily own
The white season only enchants us a few months a year
The fairies, by magic, soon disappear
God, not man, decides whom these riches bestow
The rich of spirit know the value of silvery sheets of snow
Children charmed by snow's shimmering spell
Gaze at a snowman sculptured by winter's richest girl
Whose love moulded beauty into perfection
And whose childish joy shines from every section
Like a perishing goddess, winter's wind begins to sing
The purity of winter must mature to spring
From the snowman, molten light trickles into a stream
Before the children's eyes, vanishing into a dream
Why are their eyes shining with regret and pain?
Winter will return to cast its spell again
When their white season ends, they should then lament
For that treasure's lost forever, once it is spent
poem by Laura Greene
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