Dandelions and Fairies
If I sat within the downy heather of the beauteous bogland
That is Mnt Clanard
Southern Ireland
Beneath a birch... beside a stream
And plucked
All whimsical like...
One impeccable example of fairy winged
Dandelion
And as it wove in the soft southerly breeze
I shared my breath
Just one breath
Just enough... to loosen its stability
And watched all engrossed, like
As it moved angelically
Passing the treacherous stream
As if my most desired dream
It flew
I wished it well
Saw it clambering thermals
Past brown birds and green green
Fields
What good would become of my wishing well
And effortless breath
Once it has left
Past my sight
Swooning flight of fancy
I decree in my minds eye
It will become
Another new born fairy....
poem by Karen Sinclair
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Related quotes
Magic Meadows (Somewhere In Fantsayland)
In soft green magic
meadows
Quiet, lush, and serene,
Pattern a beautiful carpet,
Near a peaceful water
stream.
There will be little houses,
Standing in a row,
Around the houses, planted
lots of mistletoe.
Heathers lite the passion,
Between their world and
mine,
Planting lots of fruit trees,
So our fairy friends can dine.
Roses, Pansies, and Tulips
have lovely heads,
Fairies use the Tulips, for the
baby beds.
Bees, Butterflies, and Birds,
flying everywhere,
The sweet smell of Roses,
Perfume fills the air.
If I were a fairy, in that fairy
land,
I'd live in green lush meadows,
There I'd find my fairy man.
poem by Heather Burns
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Tis Spring
'Tis Spring in the northern woodlands the chaffinch sings at dawn of day
And the hawthorns are heavily laden in their beautiful white flowers of May
And the scenery it is breath-taking when viewed from the higher ground
The green fields and the lush green valleys for acres and for miles around,
In fancy I can hear the old stream it's liquid voice is never still
It babbles along by the hedgerows from it's home at the foot of the hill
'Tis Spring in the northern Countries and in the green fields far away
The birds sing in groves and in woodlands for to greet the dawning of the day,
The fields wear their beautiful wildflowers the hedgerows are leafy and green
And Nature wears her brightest colours her beauty for all to be seen,
The lark carols above the valley and higher and higher he fly
His pleasant notes cannot be mistaken he seems a small speck in the sky
The robin with the sun on his orange breast is singing on the silver birch tree
And miles of beautiful views from the higher ground as far as the eyes can see.
poem by Francis Duggan
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A Flying Cow
Millie Moo Cow was grazing
in a field on day
when her fairy godmother
came to pay a visit to her.
Millie you are a good old cow
and your days are not yet through.
If I had wish for you
what would that wish be fore?
Millie chewed at her cud
and thought for a bit.
I would like a pair of wings
so I could fly like the birds
and then I could find the green fields
with all the tenders shoots to graze upon.
The fairy godmother waved her wand
and on Millie, two beautiful wings grew.
Millie flapped her new wings
and into the sky, she flew.
As she, few around she caused quite a stir.
Looking down she remembered
all those who had tormented her.
Now she had wings she could get her revenge.
She dived and did a somersault
and then began her bombing run
laying on them cow pats big and round.
People ran for cover as Millie flew on by.
Tiring of her games in a green field, she landed.
Her fairy godmother wasn’t pleased.
You were only supposed to look for green fields
not go bombarding people with your poo.
For your bad behaviour,
I’m taking your wings away from you.
She waved her magic wand again
and Millie’s wings were gone.
The moral of this story is
when they say do unto others as they do unto you.
You will be punished
so go do it first.
poem by David Harris
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Hunting Song
Round us rolls the heather's sheen,
Heather's sheen,
'Neath the falcon of our queen,
Of our queen.
Birch and cherry balm exhale,
Balm exhale,
Loud our horns the cliffs assail,
Cliffs assail.
Light the air and clear the sky,
Clear the sky,-
Hurrah! onward, she is nigh,
She is nigh.
Hunt ye joy with every breath,
Every breath,
Hunt it to the stream of death,
Stream of death!
poem by Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson
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A Fairy Fantasy
Soft petals glide across my pool
Beside the waterfall,
Where faires dance all through the night
So small they`re barely seen at all.
The dappling water tells me
Their fluffy wings have just passed by,
As their misty breath
Rises floating to the sky.
The whisper of fairy voices
Flutter on the breeze,
Listening very carefully
I often hear a sneeze.
I don`t think they leave my garden
As no footprints or feathers have I seen,
Or any other trace or clue
To tell me where they`ve been.
They moved a plastic toadstool
My neighbour said it was her cat,
I`m not sure why she told me
I can`t find any sense in that.
They are simply happy
In their peaceful atmosphere
Knowing while I`m around
Nothing need they fear.
I would like to say there were a few
Anyone could take
Sadly every fairy would be crying
As each little heart would break.
poem by Heather P Wilson
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Fairy Feet 02
Your fingertips are dancing across my skin.
Like fairy feet starten me to dreamen.
So warm and soft you have my heart pounding
and your kisses sweet and captivating.
They leave my body needen and my mind shaken
Pulling harder and closer to the stregnth that won't be taken
Your scent so intoxicatin, it lures me to drown in
Your heart and breath such a wonderful feeling.
Flowing over my bare skin.
What is this dream we have fallen in
This taste of love dances with amazment.
As the candles shake with my breath through the air
I have come to fly in.
I would ride this fairy tale to no end.
In satisfaction, fairy feet lead us back to dreamen
poem by Kira Bloom
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Inside a Private Gate (Somewhere in Fantsayland)
When I open a private gate,
Getting excited I can't
wait.
To step inside a wonder
land,
Everything at my command.
Velvet carpet, ever so green,
Atmosphere, peaceful, serene.
A touch of magic in the air,
Flowers blooming, everywhere.
Resting beside a silent stream,
Sunlight began to gleam.
Upon a fairy playing there,
Golden threads hung, for her
hair.
Haunting eyes, misty they seem,
Upon a rose, she did lean.
Watched her dance in fairy
land,
Her lover came, touched her
hand.
Strolled away into the night,
Embracing in the pale moon-
light.
poem by Heather Burns
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Butter Cup Rain Tree (Somewhere in Fantsayland)
My new friend is Buttercup Tree,
She works like a busy bee.
Living where the fairy rings grow,
Planted around lots of mistletoe.
Only seen when leaves turn brown,
Silently fall upon the ground.
Her attire is clover green,
Most beautiful fairy ever seen.
Uses computer, all day thru,
Keeping records for me and you.
She really makes her computer
sing,
Loves to play games, and things.
Her fairy husband keeps us well,
The only doctor in the dells.
poem by Heather Burns
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Fête Champêtre
Under the shadow of the trees
We sat together, you and I;
Our hearts were sweetly ill at ease
Under the shadow of the trees.
In the green circle of the grass
We saw the fairies passing by;
The wake, the fairy wake it was
Upon the circle of green grass.
And softly with their fairy chain
They wove a circle round about,
And round our hearts; ah, not in vain
They bound us with their fairy chain!
With shadowy bonds thy bound us fast,
They wove their circle in and out;
Ah, Céleste, when the fairies passed,
With what strong bonds they bound us fast!
poem by Arthur Symons
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06 - Enchanted Fairies
Over England’s dales
Deep past the ever green
Inside the forest
Lives the Fairy Queen
She hangs the pearls
Upon the cowslips ear
Within the enchantment of night
Beneath the silver moons sphere
Her orbs flicker
Like a colourful dream
Upon natures blanket
Sewn within its seam
Golden showers of fairy dust
Among the flowers they glide
In between the lavender
Where the fairies like to hide
poem by Nicola Burkett
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As Ireland Wore the Green
BY RIGHT of birth in southern land I send my warning forth.
I see my country ruined by the wrongs that damned the North.
And shall I stand with fireless eyes and still and silent mouth
While Mammon builds his Londons on the fair fields of the South?
CHORUS:
O must we hide our colour
In fear of Mammon’s spleen?
Or shall we wear the bonnie blue
As Ireland wore the green?
As Ireland wore the green, my friends!
As Ireland wore the green!
Aye, we will wear our colour still,
As Ireland wore the green!
I see the shade of poverty fall on each sunny scene.
And slums and alley-ways extend where fields were evergreen.
There is a law that stamps the flower of freedom as it springs;
And this upon a soil that’s trod by prouder feet than kings’.
And must I hide my colour
In fear of Mammon’s spleen?
Or shall I wear the bonnie blue
As Ireland wore the green?
As Ireland wore the green, my friends!
As Ireland swore the green!
Aye, I will wear my colour yet,
As Ireland wore the green!
Out there beyond the lonely range our fathers toiled for years
’Neath all the hardships that beset true-hearted pioneers;
And our brave mothers journeyed there to do the work of men
On those great awful plains that were unfit for women then.
Then must we hide our colour
In fear of Mammon’s spleen?
Or shall we wear the bonnie blue
As Ireland swore the green?
As Ireland wore the green, my friends!
As Ireland wore the green!
Aye, we shall wear our colour still,
As Ireland wore the green!
O shall the fields our fathers won be yielded to the few
Who never touched the axe or spade, and hardships never knew?
Shall lordly robbers rule the land and build their mansions high,
And ladies flaunt their jewelled plumes where our brave mothers lie?
O must we hide our colour
In fear of Mammnon’s spleen?
Or shall the wear the bonnie blue
As Ireland wore the green?
As Ireland wore the green, my friends!
As Ireland wore the green!
Aye, the will wear our colour yet,
As Ireland wore the green!
What though our stalwart fathers came from every land on earth,
We will be loyal to the land that gives our children birth.
We’ll show our banner to the sun—the Southern Cross displayed—
And join our strength together for the home our fathers made.
Let cowards hide their colour
For fear of Mammon’s spleen!
But I will wear my bonnie blue
As Ireland swore the green!
As Ireland swore the green, my friends!
As Ireland wore the green!
Aye, I will wear my colour still,
As Ireland swore the green!
We’ll light the lamp of hope above the alley and the slum,
And teach the poor and drill them for the war that is to come.
We’ll send our songs recruiting far beneath the western sky,
And wake the towns and let them know the day of deeds is nigh.
And the twill wear our colour
In spite of Mammon’s spleen!
O the will wear the bonnie blue
As Ireland wore the green!
As Ireland wore the green, my friends!
As Ireland wore the green!
Aye, the will wear our colour yet,
As Ireland wore the green!
poem by Henry Lawson
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Unseen Worlds
On trade winds of time they travel by light
Their voices float on sound-lit beams
They fly just past our muted sight
On prism blessed transparent wings
A voice as soft as a fledgling dove
Breath as sweet as an angels love.
If sought with mortal eyes
They are masters of disguise
And forever will they elude
For only with the heart and soul
May the fairy world be viewed.
Once you've seen the fairy realm
You'll never disbelieve
The stories told in ancient times
Of kingdoms once perceived.
Be faithful to the mighty oak
For there in lies the portal
Most grand and wise of ancient trees
A hope for every mortal
So sad for those who can not see
A life of toil and fears
The magic warmth of fairy lights
Shall never dry their tears
On the day when realms collide
We'll see a new sunrise
And realities unseen to us
Will appear before our eyes
poem by Lynne FincherSpringarden
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God's Whispering Breath
Authors: Joyce Hemsley
and John William McGrath III
God's whispering breath is usually heard
whilst gathered in a Temple of Glory.
But no place is finer that a forest of green
as told in this fairy-tale story.
Two young lovers ramble together
deep in the heart of the forest,
they hear only God's whispering breath.
His name is the treasure and will be forever.
His kingdom reigns high up above...
as they silently bask in the warmth of His love.
Somewhere beyond the depth of the forest
there's a beautiful land of the rarest,
on top of the world, nothing less,
where hearts find pleasure romancing forever
God's promise, all fresh and new...
as they silently bask in the warmth of the Blue.
God's whispering breath is usually heard
whilst gathered in a Temple of Glory.
But no place was finer than a forest of green
as told in this fairy-tale story.
poem by Joyce Hemsley
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Since We Must Die
Though we must die, I would not die
When fields are brown and bleak,
When wild-geese stream across the sky,
And the cart-lodge timbers creak.
For it would be so lone and drear
To sleep beneath the snow,
When children carol Christmas cheer,
And Christmas rafters glow.
Nor would I die, though we must die,
When yeanlings blindly bleat,
When the cuckoo laughs, and lovers sigh,
And O, to live is sweet!
When cowslips come again, and Spring
Is winsome with their breath,
And Life's in love with everything-
With everything but Death.
Let me not die, though we must die,
When bowls are brimmed with cream,
When milch-cows in the meadows lie,
Or wade amid the stream;
When dewy-dimpled roses smile
To see the face of June,
And lad and lass meet at the stile,
Or roam beneath the moon.
Since we must die, then let me die
When flows the harvest ale,
When the reaper lays the sickle by,
And taketh down the flail;
When all we prized, and all we planned,
Is ripe and stored at last,
And Autumn looks across the land,
And ponders on the past:
Then let me die.
poem by Alfred Austin
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Take My Breath Away
Lively as a grass,
I am lonely as a pet;
Oh green berry love,
Come and take my breath away.
It is a delight to have you around me,
Take my breath away to the stars!
Come and take my breath away.
Your love has inspired the masters in this field,
Honoured among the best are your sweet berry;
Come and take my breath away.
You are the Princess of the apple tower,
You have the sweet lines of pinnacles;
It all comes from the brightness of your love.
Green as a grass,
The shopping love of your taste;
So, i will alwaays come to you.
My grteen berry,
Come and take my breath away;
I will fly to you where posssible,
I will come to you when necessary,
Come and take me to the Island of love.
Take my breath away oh Princess of the tower,
It is a delight to have you around me;
So, come and take my breath away.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Now Is Past
_Now_ is past--the happy _now_
When we together roved
Beneath the wildwood's oak-tree bough
And Nature said we loved.
Winter's blast
The _now_ since then has crept between,
And left us both apart.
Winters that withered all the green
Have froze the beating heart.
Now is past.
_Now_ is past since last we met
Beneath the hazel bough;
Before the evening sun was set
Her shadow stretched below.
Autumn's blast
Has stained and blighted every bough;
Wild strawberries like her lips
Have left the mosses green below,
Her bloom's upon the hips.
Now is past.
_Now_ is past, is changed agen,
The woods and fields are painted new.
Wild strawberries which both gathered then,
None know now where they grew.
The skys oercast.
Wood strawberries faded from wood sides,
Green leaves have all turned yellow;
No Adelaide walks the wood rides,
True love has no bed-fellow.
Now is past.
poem by John Clare
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Two Birds Wished To Be Friendly
1 Two birds wished to be friendly
I was the messenger winged
Hither thither cuckoo and magpie
Two birds wished to be friendly
'Come here, o' dear, come here'
coo~~coo~~coo~~~in rising notes
Two birds wished to be friendly
I was the messenger winged
2 Hither thither cuckoo and magpie
Two birds wished to be friendly
I was the messenger winged
Hither thither cuckoo and magpie
Warbling, whistling, fluty trilling
Magpie just couldn't let me read
Hither thither cuckoo and magpie
Two birds wished to be friendly
3 Two birds wished to be friendly
I was the messenger plucked punished
Gloomed cuckoo, confused magpie
Two birds wished to be friendly
Reading failing, messaging failing
Loamy homey cuckoo angry with me
Two birds wished to be friendly
I was the messenger plucked punished
poem by Indira Renganathan
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In A Breath
Life is only one breath after another,
We are the ones who control our breaths, not oneanother.
A breath is all it takes,
To make a breath.
In a breath you could stop,
In a breath you could drop,
In a breath anything could happen,
In a breath anything could happen.
Life is the journey down a pathway,
Of which stones are breaths that show you the way.
A path to eternity, to forever.
Where you shall stay forever and ever.
In a breath you could die,
In a breath you could fly,
In a breath anything could happen,
In a breath anything could happen.
Tomorrow is yet a turn,
A turn you may not reach, but only a breath can determine,
You don't know when your final turn comes.
You do not know what you will become.
In a breath you could win,
In a breath you could sin.
In a breath anything could happen,
anything could happen.
Life is but a breath,
Air is but a breath,
In life you will find the truth,
And find air is the proof.
In a breath you could find nothing,
In a breath you could find everything,
In a breath anything could happen,
In a breath anything could happen.
You travel down a river,
Where bubbles are breaths and you are the giver.
The giver of ripples, of currents,
Of which for endurence.
In a breath you could loose,
In a breath you could choose.
In a breath anything could happen
In a breath anything could happen.
Follow the river of dreams to the sea.
This is eternity you will see.
Breath avery breath,
As if it were your last breath.
In a breath you could sail.
In a breath you could fail.
In a breath anything could happen,
anything could happen.
poem by Bethany Maxwell
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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
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Cradle Song
FROM groves of spice,
O'er fields of rice,
Athwart the lotus-stream,
I bring for you,
Aglint with dew
A little lovely dream.
Sweet, shut your eyes,
The wild fire-fiies
Dance through the fairy neem;
From the poppy-bole
For you I stole
A little lovely dream.
Dear eyes, good-night,
In golden light
The stars around you gleam;
On you I press
With soft caress
A little lovely dream.
poem by Sarojini Naidu
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