Fairy Tales
On peeping through the aperture inside the old oak tree
I gasped with wonder to behold the vision that awaited me
For deep inside three fairies slept their delicate wings like lace
To attest their actuality a childhood dream I would embrace
When I was young, a wee small child, sometimes naughty, sometimes wild
I searched in all the nooks and crannies, seeking fairies, so beguiled
I came across a barren meadow; an ancient oak was growing there
The tree became a favourite haunt, enthralling every daily jaunt
I remember telling grownups of the fairies deep inside my tree
They laughed aloud, this silly child, who dared display temerity
I often sketched or made up songs about my childhood saga
Searching for fairies constantly, whilst eating Italian frittata
A child no longer I still reflect upon their negativity
Accused of telling fairy tales displaying such proclivity
Imagination running wild and full of positivity
I did see fairies every day, their nuance their transparency
Now looking back the gift I had was wacky and unique
They said I must stop lying and of fairies never speak
Feeling honoured for this gift, so deep within my marrow
I celebrate my childhood visions, dismissing minds so narrow
And now each day I watch them play around my old oak tree
As they perform a show for me, displaying their fragility
Each night they fly high in the sky, with silver gossamer wings
Like twinkling stars in a moonlit sky, tugging at my heartstrings
Written 29th October 2018
For Eight Word Challenge 9 Poetry Contest
Sponsor: John Hamilton
4th placement
Contest Strand Choice H
Sponsor Brian Strand
HONORABLE MENTION
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
