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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Related quotes
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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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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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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The Ring
I discovered a perfect circle of mushrooms,
some believe this to be a fairy ring.
I decided to watch the ring from some distance
on the off chance I might see something.
After an hour or so of waiting
two butterflies flew around the ring.
A circle of tiny golden stars lit up the area
and I could hear soft voices sing.
Eight fairies appeared sitting on the mushrooms,
it was they who were singing after all.
They began to dance around the ring of mushrooms,
which made them grow incredibly tall.
The silver fairy saw me watching
and flew to the centre of the ring.
She twisted and turned and flew above the circle,
sprinkling fairy dust over everything.
The other fairies turned to face me
and put out their fairy tongues.
They continued to dance in the air regardless,
then faded with the sound of their song.
poem by Orlando Belo
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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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Fairy Wings
There's a fairy sitting by the pool making fairy wings. from gossamer
and spider webs and silk worm's silk and things.
In summer-time they have a ball; the elves and gnomes come one and all.
The music's played in trumpet flowers; the ball goes on for hours and hours. As dawn begins to break and people start to rise,
the fairies clear their tables for they are very wise.
They know NOT to leave things around to show folk where they dwell.
For maybe curious folk will want to live with them as well.
But fairy-land is fairy-land and humans can't intrude.
For THEY are known to be polite and some of US are rude.
Don't go in search of fairies. Don't cause these ones to grieve.
Let's not disturb their habitat. Be humble and believe.
We've all seen sparkling cobwebs and flowers of every hue
The sweet, sweet honey nettle and buttercups filled with dew.
Remember there are fairies running all around, but sure enough not
one of them ever has been found.
Let your imagination, the wonder of make-believe, take you to a wonderland grown-ups have had to leave.
So if you should see cobwebs, sparkling dew and fairy rings
Remember that somewhere close by they're making fairy wings.
Rita Alyson Petts
poem by Rita Alyson Petts
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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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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
Said Ann to Matilda, 'I wish that we knew
If what we've been reading of fairies be true.
Do you think that the poet himself had a sight of
The fairies he here does so prettily write of?
O what a sweet sight if he really had seen
The graceful Titania, the Fairy-land Queen!
If I had such dreams, I would sleep a whole year;
I would not wish to wake while a fairy was near.-
Now I'll fancy that I in my sleep have been seeing
A fine little delicate lady-like being,
Whose steps and whose motions so light were and airy,
I knew at one glance that she must be a fairy.
Her eyes they were blue, and her fine curling hair
Of the lightest of browns, her complexion more fair
Than I e'er saw a woman's; and then for her height,
I verily think that she measured not quite
Two feet, yet so justly proportioned withal,
I was almost persuaded to think she was tall.
Her voice was the little thin note of a sprite-
There-d'ye think I have made out a fairy aright?
You'll confess, I believe, I've not done it amiss.'
'Pardon me,' said Matilda, 'I find in all this
Fine description, you've only your young sister Mary
Been taking a copy of here for a fairy.'
poem by Charles Lamb
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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
http: //.blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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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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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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The Fairy Folk
In the hollow of the oak,
Waiting patiently for night.
The fairy king and fairy folk,
Watch the quickly fading light.
Inside the giant oak they wait,
For their time will soon be here.
With the moon and mist they have a date,
To ride the moonbeams that they hold dear.
The night arrives and the fairies fly,
On golden moonbeams they spread their wings.
Joyously reaching for the sky,
Bringers of dreams and all good things.
The fairy king upon a limb,
Holds court for his subjects every night.
In a hidden corner where the moon is dim,
Till the early morning light.
Deep in the woods, round hollow logs,
Flying near the pond next to the oak.
Through cattails and ferns, playing with frogs,
Bringing joy to the forrest, fly the fairy folk.
If you walk in the woods, your eyes will see,
Their tiny lanterns glowing bright.
Flying on moonbeams forever free,
Illuminating the stygian night.
There really are fairies, without a doubt,
Just believe and they'll appear.
Just walk quietly don't scream or shout,
And you will see them flying near.
9/21/10 Alton Texas
poem by Juan Olivarez
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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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Mystical Meadows
In a land of magic where dragon flies are kings
Fairy Meadows
where peace and tranquillity reign
How I wish I could be
The one chosen to receive my wings
Flowers of all colours
Harvested for their sweet nectars
Sprinkled fairy dust to enhance beauty
Glistening in the sun light
My bright petal shift still fresh
How I wish to stay here forever
All wings flapping gently
Hurrying to finish their chores before the gathering
This enchanting world of peace and harmony
Soon all will be summoned
Be wildered at all the different fairies I have ever seen
Then came the sound of the gentle trumpeting
All is to gather in the clearing
Sprinkled fairy dust and merry making
Offerings to the ancient trees
Which housed, many fairy families
A source of energy to this mystical world
All fairies bowing
To the royal family of this enchanted meadows
Speeches from the crowned prince and nobleman
Someone is to be granted a pair of wings
Excited whispers as to whom and for the one unknown
Early to rise next morning
Stretching arm my wings unfolding
Dew drops shimmering in the first rays of sunlight
Home is Fairy Meadows
A place of beauty and magic
Where peace and tranquillity reign
poem by Persian Khushi
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Mystical Meadows
In a land of magic where dragon flies are kings
Fairy Meadows
where peace and tranquillity reign
How I wish I could be
The one chosen to receive my wings
Flowers of all colours
Harvested for their sweet nectars
Sprinkled fairy dust to enhance beauty
Glistening in the sun light
My bright petal shift still fresh
How I wish to stay here forever
All wings flapping gently
Hurrying to finish their chores before the gathering
This enchanting world of peace and harmony
Soon all will be summoned
Be wildered at all the different fairies I have ever seen
Then came the sound of the gentle trumpeting
All is to gather in the clearing
Sprinkled fairy dust and merry making
Offerings to the ancient trees
Which housed, many fairy families
A source of energy to this mystical world
All fairies bowing
To the royal family of this enchanted meadows
Speeches from the crowned prince and nobleman
Someone is to be granted a pair of wings
Excited whispers as to whom and for the one unknown
Early to rise next morning
Stretching arm my wings unfolding
Dew drops shimmering in the first rays of sunlight
Home is Fairy Meadows
A place of beauty and magic
Where peace and tranquillity reign
poem by Persian Khushi
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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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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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A Hairy Fairy
In life, there are things we never expect to see
and a very large hairy fairy
with Pancho Villa moustache is one of them.
This one flew into my garden and squashed all my roses
on his bad landing on that fateful day.
Every time he waved his supposedly magic wand,
everything went bottom up.
The roses he tried to mend
had their flowers in the ground
and their roots pointing skyward in the air.
It got that bad I had to replant everyone.
I shuddered to think what other magic
he might have up his sleeve.
The big hairy fairy dressed in a short Toto
spread out his wings to say goodbye and fly away.
He never got no more than three feet off the ground
before he again came crashing down
squashing all my tulips this time.
Enough is enough you’re ruining garden.
Do you realise all the hard work I have put in.
The hairy fairy looked at me
and then started to cry.
No body loves me, even the fairies kicked me out
because I am different from them.
Being a soft heated fool I am
I invited him in for a cup of tea,
but everything he sat on broke
and now I was stuck with
a ten ton hairy fairy as a house guest.
As time went on my replacement, furniture
was costing me a packet.
Then one day I woke up and the big hairy fairy was gone,
now I kinda miss him.
However, saying that
I can start to rebuild what was my happy home again
and hope with luck that big hairy fairy does not come back again.
Then in my garden,
I heard an almighty thump
and looked out the window.
In my agony I moaned,
Oh no. He is back again.
poem by David Harris
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