Land of Fairy Tales
Together they wandered hand in hand
Across the beauty of the land
Until they saw the golden sand
From England's hills and vales.
And there together they would lie
unnoticed by the passer-by
Whispering love, sweet and shy
Just like in fairy tales.
And sometimes in the evening hue
They'd sail the sea of silvery blue,
In those days when love was true
On England's shores and dales.
Before their eyes, a magic sight
As North East stars lit up the night
On a coast of sheer delight
Oh 'Land of fairy tales'.
poem by Joyce Hemsley
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Related quotes
The Land Of Fairy Tales
In the land of fairy tales
Peace and serenity all prevails
Where no one is selfish or mean
And believes in things unseen
In the land of fairy tales
There blows a forceful gale
That always bring with it
Love, serenity and the friendship kit
In the land of fairy tales
No one seems to fail
neither things are bad
Nor anyone feels sad
It is all because over there
Everyone is nice and dear
Who not only cares for them
But with love others life also hem.
poem by Seema Chowdhury
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Fairy Tell
Magic exists in Fairy Tales
But truth finds the lies
That fairy’s tell
I fly to my Never Never Land
To realize that its name tells no tales
But I resent the untruths that those fairy’s tell
My Midnight came sooner than expected
And my royal façade faded away to peasantry
No glass slipper spoke up for me
And I never again heard Midnight’s Bell
Oh how I despise the lies that Fairy’s tell
poem by Rakeem Person
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FairyTales
I once believed
in fairy tales.
That love was true
and never failed.
But wisdom comes
with such a price.
Love was stolen
by a treacherous sprite.
I wish I could still believe
in fairy tales.
About Little Boy Blue
and all the tales
But at some time
before you die...
Reality sets in
and you wonder why...
You ever believed...
poem by Bridgid Patrick
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tailing Tale
in the garden of the east
i saw the pink fairy fly
sparkling trails i saw her leave
as i've seen in picture books
fascinated by this wonder
i followed through the woods
as though guiding me in a dream
it gently slowly led me on
through the garden of the east
into woods and fields
by the brooks and the streams
i just kept on going
wondrous were those sights
of lovely flowers and heady scents
'twas a fairy tale garden indeed
an' i thought it all a fantasy
humming bees and butterflies
led me to that tree
where i saw my fairy perched
on a tiny flower
on that magic pear tree
hung two magic pears
it was not for me i knew
it could have been for you
the air was a sharp delight
the wind was crisp and light
the colors of the evening
had drawn together there
in that magic moment
as me and the fairy stared
the air went suddenly still
and the pears went out of view
it was nothing but a twinkle
like the glitter on a diamond
a beauty to behold
but never to be held
fairy tales have meaning
its always been so
still, for all my searching
i don't find none in here
Is love a Fairy Tale?
Is love a Fairy Tale?
Is love a Fairy Tale?
I can only imagine,
We see Beauty of the Tales,
I got soul,
Morals and hate,
Love is real or a tale,
I think,
No I think that you mine to keep,
Throwing all behind felonies and riots,
In the world like Middle East,
Is love a Fairy Tale?
I love this Art thing,
I think world is from reptiles,
I blunt and front from where we came from,
Thinking that lovers are non-existence,
Only with tales that bring love,
There are spirits that we create from all man's intention,
Like the Great's said,
There is me and HUMANE,
ALL NEED LOVERS.
poem by Maxim Muyu
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St. Andrews Anniversary
The following is a clipping from an old Ingersoll paper
on St. Andrew's Anniversary, 30th November, 1868 :
The Anniversary of Scotia's tetular [sic] saint was celebrated on Monday with great eclat
by a dinner at Mr. Douglass' Hotel. The spread on the occasion was excellent ; not
only Scotia's sons, but many who came from merry England and the Green Isle were
present. After the cloth had been removed Mr. McIntyre took the chair, and Mr. Sorley
the vice chair. Songs, speeches and toasts became the order of the evening The
following original piece was rendered by Mr. McIntyre in good style :-
Scotia's sons to-night we meet thee
With kindly feelings we do greet thee
In honour of the land of Heather
Around this board to-night we gather.
Land where the fields for border edges
Have garlands of blooming hedges,
Land of the whin and of the broom,
And where the bonnie blue bells bloom.
Land where you may enraptured hark
To heavenly song of the sky lark
Which soars triumphant to the skies
Above the gaze of human eyes.
Land of bleak hills and of fertile dales
Where they tell oft their fairy tales ;
Land where the folks do love the Kirk,
And on the Sabbath cease from work.
Land of porridge and of good brose,
Of blue bonnets, and of Tartan hose,
The land where all good wives do bake
The thirfty, wholesome oaten cake.
We hope some day to tread the strand
Of our own dear native land,
And see the lasses shear the corn *
Near the banks of the Findhorn.
Where the Jeans and the Maggies
Excel is making glorious haggies,
And o'er the sea we'll some day sail
To get a bowl of good green kail.
poem by James McIntyre
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A World Of Pretend
A moon lit night
Stars as far as the eye could see
Sweet evening coolness
Gentle thoughts of thee
Love from a distance
A pure heart and a tender soul
You were real, love was make believe
A hope to guide along the rocky path, I was to face
You were the place that I could hide and forget all cares
Laughter and delight sang in your voice
Happiness and joy were born in my soul
A world of pretend
Making believe it could be
My fairy tale love from across the sea
Knowing you helped me to believe
If just for a season
You became the reason
I could dream again
Time a distance brought reality
Then one night against a crescent moon
I tied a crimson red ribbon to my dreams
So high above did they fly
Floating to the heavens and beyond
Up, up and away
To the land were fairy tales never end
poem by Patricia Gale
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Wheels Of Confusion
Long ago I wandered through my mind
In the land of fairy tales and stories
Lost in happiness I had no fears
Innocence and love was all I knew
Was it illusion?
Soon the days went passing into years
Happiness just didnt come so easy
Life was born of fairy tales and daydreams
Innocence was just another word
Was it illusion?
Lost in the wheels of confusion
Running through furnace of tears
Eyes full of angered illusion
Hiding in every ? ? ?
So I found that life is just a game
But you know theres never been a winner
Try your hardest, just to be a loser
The world will still be turning when youre gone
Yeah when youre gone!
song performed by by Black Sabbath
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wheels Of Confusion / The Straightener
Long ago I wandered through my mind
In the land of fairy tales and stories
Lost in happiness I had no fears
Innocence and love was all I knew
Was it illusion?
Soon the days went passing into years
Happiness just didn't come so easy
Life was born of fairy tales and daydreams
Innocence was just another word
Was it illusion?
Lost in the wheels of confusion
Running through furnace of tears
Eyes full of angered illusion
Hiding in everyday fears
So I found that life is just a game
But you know there's never been a winner
Try your hardest, just to be a loser
The world will still be turning when you're gone
Yeah when you're gone!
song performed by by Black Sabbath
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I have very happy memories of fairy tales. My mother used to take me to the library in Toronto to check out the fairy tales. And she was an actress, so she used to act out for me the different characters in all these fairy tales.
quote by Mike Myers
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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When fairy tales are written in the west, they're known as folklore. In the east, fairy tales are called religions.
quote by Paul Henderson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ripoff
I don't wanna be no traitor to the cause
But England is a luxury - not many can afford
There's people going under - it's getting out of hand
Whatever happened to our - our green and pleasant land?
It turned into a wilderness; it turned into a third world country
Most people ain't getting what they pay for
Some people gettin' more than they should be
I know, I know - I'm an alien - but what are you gonna do
I wanna live in England - but it gets to you
It gets to you, it gets to you, it gets to you
I really don't know why - England's such a ripoff
It's crazy, but it's true
I really don't know why - England wants to rip off you
England wants to rip off you, England wants to rip off you
What do you do when you find out?
Where do you go if you leave?
There's no place like home - that's what they say
And that's what you always believed
Someday you might win the Lottery
Someday you might win the Pools
But that's all you've got - that's all you've got
- to live for, to live for
That's all you've got - that's all you've got -
to live for, to live for (yeah)
To be or not to be - that's the question
Oh what's it gonna be?
I'd love to live in England - but it gets to me
it gets to me, it gets to me, yeah it gets to me
I really don't know why - England's such a ripoff
It's crazy, but it's true
I really don't know why - England wants to rip off you
England wants to rip off you, England wants to rip off you
I really don't know why - England's such a ripoff
It's crazy, but it's true
Oh I really don't know why - England wants to rip off
England wants to rip off , England wants to rip o
song performed by by Ian Hunter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Dream Fairy
A little fairy comes at night,
Her eyes are blue, her hair is brown’
with silver spots upon her wings,
And from the moon she flutters down.
She has a little silver wand,
And when a good child goes to bed
She waves her wand from right to left
And makes a circle round her head,
And then it dreams of pleasant things,
Of fountains filled with fairy fish,
And trees that bear delicious fruit,
And bow their branches at a wish;
Of arbours filled with dainty scents
From lovely flowers that never fade,
Bright ‘flies that flitter in the sun,
And glow-worms shining in the shade;
And talking birds with gifted tongues
For singing songs and telling tales,
And pretty dwarfs to show the way
Through the fairy hills and fairy dales.
poem by Thomas Hood
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The Angel of Fairy Tales
Wake up.
In a world where you are free.
A world where you can be anything you want to be.
I'm the angel that will protect you from your nightmares.
I'm the angel that will always love you and care.
I'm the angel of Fairy Tales.
Let my wings be your wings,
Let my soul be your soul,
Let my happiness be your happiness.
In a world where you can be anything you want to be.
I'll spread my wings and protect you from your fears.
In this land of Fairy Tales, in the world we are in.
Because, I am the angel of Fairy Tales.
poem by Elle Lazarus
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Pro Rege Nostro
WHAT have I done for you,
England, my England?
What is there I would not do,
England, my own?
With your glorious eyes austere,
As the Lord were walking near,
Whispering terrible things and dear
As the Song on your bugles blown, England --
Round the world on your bugles blown!
Where shall the watchful Sun,
England, my England,
Match the master-work you've done,
England, my own?
When shall he rejoice again
Such a breed of mighty men
As come forward, one to ten,
To the Song on your bugles blown, England --
Down the years on your bugles blown?
Ever the faith endures,
England, my England: --
'Take and break us: we are yours,
England, my own!
Life is good, and joy runs high
Between English earth and sky:
Death is death; but we shall die
To the Song on your bugles blown, England --
To the stars on your bugles blown!'
They call you proud and hard,
England, my England:
You with worlds to watch and ward,
England, my own!
You whose mailed hand keeps the keys
Of such teeming destinies,
You could know nor dread nor ease,
Were the Song on your bugles blown, England --
Round the Pit on your bugles blown!
Mother of Ships whose might,
England, my England,
Is the fierce old Sea's delight,
England, my own,
Chosen daughter of the Lord,
Spouse-in-Chief of the ancient Sword,
There's the menace of the Word
In the Song of your bugles blown, England --
Out of heaven on your bugles blown!
poem by William Ernest Henley
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Heart Broken
You wish upon a star
Your a child left behind
You fall in love with everyone
you break your heart without a doubt
Crying sorrow and letting fly
Upon a star you leave it all
You wish for better every night
You wish for love to come all night
Were made believe that its all fine
Were made believe about true love
child child hear me out
Your all grown up and stand up right
Child Child listen right
Your lost in mind your never right
Fairy tales and love is wrong
Stars upon the skys are all but tales
Child act your age and learn this right
Love is fake and crazy tales
poem by Kimberly Picazo
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What Have I Done For You
What have I done for you,
England, my England?
What is there I would not do,
England, my own?
With your glorious eyes austere,
As the Lord were walking near,
Whispering terrible things and dear
As the Song on your bugles blown,
England -
Round the world on your bugles blown!
Where shall the watchful Sun,
England, my England,
Match the master-work you've done,
England, my own?
When shall he rejoice agen
Such a breed of mighty men
As come forward, one to ten,
To the Song on your bugles blown,
England -
Down the years on your bugles blown?
Ever the faith endures,
England, my England:-
'Take and break us: we are yours,
'England, my own!
'Life is good, and joy runs high
'Between English earth and sky:
'Death is death; but we shall die
'To the Song on your bugles blown,
'England -
'To the stars on your bugles blown!
They call you proud and hard,
England, my England:
You with worlds to watch and ward,
England, my own!
You whose mailed hand keeps the keys
Of such teeming destinies
You could know nor dread nor ease
Were the Song on your bugles blown,
England,
Round the Pit on your bugles blown!
Mother of Ships whose might,
England, my England,
Is the fierce old Sea's delight,
England, my own,
Chosen daughter of the Lord,
Spouse-in-Chief of the ancient sword,
There's the menace of the Word
In the Song on your bugles blown,
England -
Out of heaven on your bugles blown!
poem by William Ernest Henley
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For A Friend
LIKE a street drug, his poison
took, and took well, like a dull
knife, it cuts the skin, then
finds the blood, then soul.
OH fairy tales, take this child
in your hands,
OH fairy tales, let the white
horse come, and take this child
to a place called, me, love,
and them.
LIKE a street whore, this
man sells his body to the
dogs, the rich take what they
want, and the poor kick,
and kick, untill he finds his
way back home.
OH fairy tales, take this
child in your hands,
oh fairy tales, let the
white horse come, and take this
child to a place called,
me, love, and them.
poem by David Gerardino
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Me, Love, Them
LIKE a street drug, his poison
took, and took well, like a dull
knife, it cuts the skin, then
finds the blood, then soul.
OH fairy tales, take this child
in your hands,
OH fairy tales, let the white
horse come, and take this child
to a place called, me, love,
and them.
LIKE a street whore, this
man sells his body to the
dogs, the rich take what they
want, and the poor kick,
and kick, untill he finds his
way back home.
OH fairy tales, take this
child in your hands,
oh fairy tales, let the
white horse come, and take this
child to a place called,
me, love, and them.
poem by David Gerardino
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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