Best Fae Poems
Ivy draped portal
entrancing
a soul
within a sun
enclaved in gold
made by the Fae
those wondrous beings
Is this real
what I’m seeing?
A song of joy
so sweet to the ear
Earthbound souls
never will hear
a veil
it panes
the sound
of the Fae
forever and always
to this very day
Faeries dancing
on the air
firefly’s lanterns
glistening
in pairs
shining bright
a magical trail
up the hill
and down the vale
eclipsing the moon
making her pale
Every night
no matter the weather
the folk do dance
a love song
together
binding and sealing
a hearts embrace
shows of feeling
a loves true face
Eternally joined
filigree veins
gold and ametrine
glows and wanes
the heart it encases
overflows pure joy
for hearts robbed
and broken
the Fae
refill with joy
Fae chevaliers
of true loves heart
for true loves’ trinity
the dance
the song
for love…
Hazy mountains far beyond
A fast dark river away
The stars are pinned within the night
Trapped in the realm of Fae
©Copyright 2015. All rights reserved.
The winter fae have come to call,
Leaving snow where they go,
As dreams of spring were in our minds,
Frosty sprites said think again,
And visions of laughter lit the night.
Form: Pentastich
The nymph shudders at the sweet earth.
I want to leave, but she wants all its worth.
She is but a beautiful death,
as she admires a last breath.
“I love your retired beauty, soul, and eyes.
My trance for you has such a beautiful gaze.
Now I adore away your intense heart of lies,
Remember my rough words in this phase.”
Indeed, this daisy fresh moment
Flies to a land of lost punishment.
Almost crying to the humming flies
Her weep calms the vines in their ties.
“Truthfully, I cannot live without these treasures,
Filling my soul of lust that your heart doth yearns.
So close to having this fulfilling land that assures,
Yet in time, the wave covers, catches fire, and burns.”
Nightly dances with the Fae,
Oh how I long to get away,
From daylights suffocating grasp,
I dream the way to moonlights path.
There they are, such beauty is a treat,
The wicked Fae sweep me from my feet,
To forget about my long day,
And at long last forever dance among the Fae.
FAE IN MY SHADOW
Still night air, heavy and wet.
Damp my skin; I rise, I sit.
Cloudy dreams lie in shadow.
Whispers of laughter.
Promises of a kiss.
The sound of hummingbird wings. This cannot be.
Midnight flight in Autumn?
Stirring I stand.
My balance amiss.
Flop on the bed once more.
Soft giggles.
A whirring hum.
I listen.
Moonlight catches my eye.
A shadow dance.
My Window shakes.
I ponder the disturbance.
My lack of rest.
Midnight visitors?
I turned on a light,
My feet find a floor.
My shadow led the way.
"To the window, "
I heard them say.
Their voices soft.
Tiny whispers.
As I stood at panes
Of glass, I unhitched
The clasp.
By the fountain they play.
Their skin silver
Shining in moonlight.
Two fairy lovers.
Holding hands.
Legs and feet entwined.
They turned their heads,
Smiling at me.
"Watch us finish this dance."
Then wish it to be.
"You will have a Fae,
Named for thee . "
Their skin glistening,
They touched.
Caressed and smiled.
Aroused I stood.
Entranced I stared.
The lovers took my
Mind to places
Both light and dark.
When finished I wished for
Them; the child they sought.
" Mortal one, it has come to be.
A Fae will be named for thee. "
K. Kerry.
Tears of laughter ran down my face
Goblin's Jewel Box has pride of place
Enchanted tears I shed with grace.
In rain, I danced with wings of fire
My tears became a blue Sapphire
When I dated goblin, it turned out dire.
Reading at night between the lines
I cried a river then I got fined
Ended up doing hard jail time.
Cried a storm over a glass of beer
Thankful that goblin has no peer
He drove me demented, no more tears.
The Goblin's Jewel Box
Sponsored by Jack Webster
Deadline 11th August 2021
Under the full moon so bright
She gazes off with her inner sight
Dreaming of a love pure and true
Wondering what would beheld
If her soul and another could meld
She folds her wings underneath
Lets a tear fall down her face
Knowing nothing will do
Without love so pure and true
WINGS LIKE GOSSAMER SHIMMER IN MOONS PALE LIGHT
VOICES LIKE TINY BELLS, MOTHS TAKING FLIGHT
TOADSTOOLS POP UP UNBIDDEN FROM EARTH
THIS IS THE TIME OF THE FAES REBIRTH
AT NIGHT THEY APPEAR DURING DAY THEY'RE NOT SEEN
WHEN THE MOON IS HER HIGHEST AND THE AIR IS SERENE
FOR THE QUIET TIME IS THEIRS AND THEIRS ALL ALONE
WHEN MEN LIE IN THEIR BEDS THE FAE THEY LIVE ON
SOME ARE DANCING SOME PRANCING THEY DO LOVE THEIR FUN
BUT NEVER DO THEY SEE THE LIGHT OF THE SUN
FOR THEN THERE IS DANGER FROM A LL AROUND
AND THAT'S WHY THE FAE THEY LIVE UNDER THE GROUND
IN TREES AND IN WOODLANDS IS WHERE THEY MAKE THEIR HOME
FAERY CIRCLES OF TOADSTOOLS BY THE MORN THEY ARE GONE
BUT IF YOU STAND QUIET IN DAWNS EARLY NIGHT
AND LISTEN VERY CAREFULLY THE FAE WHISPER
GOODNIGHT
In heavy noonday heat cicadas sing
Bright sun teases my skin with hot caress
Colourful birds in palm spread lovely wings
Momentarily speechless I digress.
Each year without failing beauty unfolds
Gold trumpet creeper rambling everywhere
Blazing orange with a touch of pure gold
Heavenly vision that ignites prayer.
Rambling fecundity gives pure delight
Seasonal blessing each and every day
Do fae folk frolic on hot summer night?
Yes, dancing along with flowers that sway.
Beware, do not look while those fae folk dance
Be mindful because it can cause a trance.
England glides in grace.
Heartfelt Oak and Sage herald
Its faery language.
English lightens weight,
Glides through fae-tinged tales to wake
Syllabic rebirth.
Beside a creek, I saw a Fae,
upon a warm, summery day;
When she looked up and said “hello”,
my finite mind was truly blown.
There she lay upon the grass,
never flinching as I passed.
“You won’t remember me tomorrow,
imagining you’ve had too much Bordeaux”.
Not a word, could I dare speak;
a cat appeared within that creek.
Right beside her, on a boulder and
a lantern hung above her shoulders.
There in diaphanous splendor,
she lay so innocent and tender;
So sad that I will not recall,
the majesty of what I saw.
Imelda would spread her faerie magic
upon the many creatures of the wood;
and like a ball of soft plastic
it one day bounced upon a bunny-hood.
Young bunnies were making daisy chains
amid firefly lit bluebells this eve;
as a rainbow smiled post gentle rain
Imelda pulled a wand from her sleeve.
She blessed these little rabbits, two
that ever contented they might be;
and many lovely daisies they’d accrue
to artistically decorate the woodland trees.
Young Nipsy Belle and Paddy Pim,
twins of the Hares, Laurel and Ted,
were filled with talent to their brim
and made themselves some daisy-beds.
Into their heads Imelda inserted
imaginings by the moon’s light;
and they grew to create assorted
floral sculpted, woody sights.
Topiaries built on tree trunks
crafted from ivy and wildflowers;
they built sunflower bunks
scattered through the woodsy bowers.
Imelda’s magic had them working
day and night, crafting with elated ease;
these bunnies, they were so hardworking
their faerie they did surely please.
It's straightforward enough to be the Cheshire Cat grinning.
A stroll in the park to smile when you're winning.
But when you find yourself irked and cursing the weather.
You're unconsciously encompassed by the Fundamental Attribution Error.
A theory purporting it's mostly all luck.
Like getting that pay rise, or our wedding ring stuck.
Carefully eluding unnecessary confrontation and hate.
Then declaring a million and one times you don't exaggerate.
Attempts to train the mind not to be bitter or pious.
A desperate evasion of this confirmation bias.
Blaming others for misfortune and ourselves for the good.
A rephrasing of stereotypes to see things as we should.
Whilst rejoicing achievements is admirable and just.
Take a second to pause, exhale, reflect if you must.
Content to live in the moment. This moment right here.
With freedom of cognition. With our mental pathways clear.
To be kind, where possible, in all circumstances.
A non-judgemental stranger throwing uplifting glances.
In the woodland, a wildling roams unbound
She speaks the language of leaves, and the wind’s soft sounds.
Her hair, a cascade of chestnut and gold
Always tangled with pines, keeping her warm when it’s cold
At each sunrise, she emerges from her leafy bed
She greets the day glowing like the sun, it’s said
Her magical power rooted in the soil below
Out of her nature’s wonders flow
She dances each season, a gentle ballet,
Keeping the harshest of weather and foes away
Under the moon’s silver gaze, she weaves her spells,
The owls listen, to help spread the word of the secrets she tells,
Wildlings know no chains,
When it’s her time, she will vanish into the mist, but her essence will remain
And her magical song will forever be woven into the forest,
And when you’re walking through you may hear it, blended in to nature’s chorus”