Best Fairy Poems | Poetry
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The Best Fairy Poems
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Fairy Poem
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The woods were silent except for the shifting
soft sounds of his hooves as they fell upon
the forest floor. There he stood amid the mist in
his white majestic coat calling to me to come
to him and ride upon his back, vanish with him,
(as the sun lay dying into quiet shades of twilight)
into an unknown sacred realm where no
one's footsteps could follow.
I stroked his soft warm velvet nose and felt the
subtle flair of his nostrils breath on my hand.
When I climbed upon his back we rode
as one as our love and trust in each other
had slowly grown into a synergy unsurpassed.
Moonlight filtered through the verdant trees
as darkness enveloped the starry sky.
Suddenly we found ourselves in a glade
where we were surrounded by the soft glow
of tiny faeries as numerous as fireflies.
We were warmly welcomed into their sacred
sanctuary and I felt enchanted by their sylvan
beauty as two tiny faeries braided long strands
of my golden hair, intertwining fragrant flowers.
I was asked if I would help to keep the forest
safe from clear cutting, and I promised I would.
I awoke to the faint sound of hoofbeats as dawn
was rising and there were pretty flowers in my hair.
© Connie Marcum Wong
Poem of the Day April 4, 2016
Copyright © Connie Marcum Wong | Year Posted 2016
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Fairy Poem
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As the sun arose in the eastern skies
a fairy princess sits rubbing her eyes.
Yawning she glimpses her magical isle
and her tiny lips, curl into a smile.
Standing she stretches in her treetop bed,
anxious anticipates what lies ahead.
She flutters her wings to get them ready,
raising one knee, she jumps slow and steady.
Hovering like, a hummingbird she glides
then races off with both arms at her sides.
With lots to see her day has just begun,
she never stops until the setting sun.
Racing through the forest over fields of wheat
smelling the flowers, is her daily treat.
Talks to the butterflies this sunny morn,
tests the fresh honey and tastes some sweet corn.
Spotting a pond sparkling like a mirror
zooms back and forth each time getting nearer,
watching her reflection, no time to think
crashed in a deer who had just stopped to drink.
Later discovers she’s broken her wings,
Lies in bed knowing what carelessness brings.
Six months of bed rest was taking their toll,
this fairy princess was losing her soul.
Finally the day came to test her wings
her will is determined her heart now sings,
shouts out with joy as she reaches the sky,
nothing feels greater, than when you can fly.
Iambic Pentameter
Written by Brenda Meier-Hans
01.14.2015
Contest: Sketch a Fictitious Character II
Copyright © Brenda Meier-Hans | Year Posted 2015
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Fairy Poem
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You all know about fire breathing dragons
and their obsession for hoarding treasure.
But, have you ever heard of Huffle-winks
magical creatures that promote pleasure.
Invisible, atop of dragonflies
they ride the winds of fate, mile after mile.
And whenever they encounter a frown
they'll try to flip it into a smile.
They harness dragonflies to get around
for unlike dragons, they haven't learned to fly.
But, if suddenly you feel like laughing
it's a safe bet, there’s Huffle-winks nearby.
In winter when dragonflies disappear
they’ll hitch a ride on tumbling snowflakes.
And if you’re lucky enough to catch one,
it's like winning the lottery sweepstakes.
I've never seen one, except in my dreams
but, I know in my heart that they are real.
And what makes me so sure that they exist
is the wonderful way they make me feel.
When you’re feeling particularly blue
remember there are Huffle-winks around.
And they're masters of jocularity,
ensuring that smiles and laugher abound.
(Quatrain)
May 17, 2018
Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2018
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Fairy Poem
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A long, long time ago in the land of Fays,
lived a forest nymph of beguiling beauty.
Laila, the queen of the trees, an angel of joy,
whose mere presence brought spirits to life.
She was beloved by all the creatures of the
woods. Her voice gave magic to sunlight.
The wind from her step brought flowers to
bloom.
One day, while Laila was dancing through
the scented grasses of the glade,
a fanciful dragonfly, on his dutiful rounds,
became enchanted by Laila's song.
Being drawn by the scent of her happiness
and after circling dizzily around her head,
he lit right on the tip of her nose and
immediately started to jig.
The sight of such glee so delighted Laila
that she broke into uncontrollable laughter.
As soon as it was heard it shattered into
thousands of tiny moonbeams and from
that, my little ones, Fairies were born.
A Fairy Tale For Children Contest
Sponsored By Eve Roper
02/16/2017
Copyright © Charlie Smith | Year Posted 2017
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Fairy Poem
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Cinderella
Pumpkin turns carriage
Prince offers marriage
The Elves and the Shoemaker
Business lacks clout
Shorties help out
Rapunzel
Scaling her tresses
Young prince impresses
The Three Little Pigs
Wolfie wants bacon
Brickwork frustrates him
Puss in Boots
Smooth talking feline
Princess makes beeline
Sleeping Beauty
Hundred year nap
Ended by chap
Beauty and the Beast
Loving what’s ugly
Renders it lovely
Hansel and Gretel
Candy trap foiled
Witchy gets boiled
14 September 2018
Written for Six-Word Couplet Series Contest
Hosted by Mark Toney
Copyright © Nina Parmenter | Year Posted 2018
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Fairy Poem
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When dreamtime leads me to a mystic land
I saunter quietly ... climbing a hill,
For the kingdom of fairies and elves reigns
With gossamer wings and jewels in their hair.
A sapphire castle laps with ambient winds
Robed in diamante from godly hands.
Sweet mist of air and silver voices echo
Through quivering rock pools of hawthorns green.
This lofty place thrills bright imaginings
Upon glittered sands like tiers of limestone,
Hard marbles and finely-polished pebbles
Lie dotted through rainbow of stardust ,untold.
Tasseled wands bestow spells on the courtyard
Beguiling my eye with pixie- waltz steps
Until, at the height of enchanted awe
Fairy Queen lends magic, then fades in dreams!
Second Chance # 3 Contest of Broken Wings
Posted 4/21/2016
Judging Finalized 4/27/2016
Copyright © nette onclaud | Year Posted 2016
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Fairy Poem
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Somewhere deep in these enchanted woods
a fairy is perched upon a delicate daisy
she yawns and stretches her transparent wings
as all around her in the dim purple glow of twilight
the fireflies shine and dance
with the butterflies as they fly away to hide until dawn
the frogs and the crickets prepare for their midnight symphony
a majestic unicorn approaches the stream to drink from the cool waters.
The fairy now rests on this delicate daisy
gazing up at the darkening purple sky
filled with misty stars that twinkle like diamonds
through the tree branches she can just see
a perfect crescent moon looking down on her
as she drifts off to sleep
this fairy lives in a fantasy world
so, what wondrous thing can she possibly dream about?
Notes - I had just started writing in free verse when I joined Poetry Soup.
Before that, all of my poems were rhymed. I was very nervous about posting
this as my first poem. It was also my first contest entry. So, that was fun and exciting,
and it got me hooked on The Soup!
Copyright © Kelly Deschler | Year Posted 2013
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Fairy Poem
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In a magical forest among the purple ice plants
the queen fairy floats by inside a bubble and chants
"Come to me all fairy lights and play softly among your flutes"
hundreds of fairies fly to her in a great multitude they swoop
Soft music from the fairies make the flowers start to sway
bending low and high reaching for the sky they splay
The flowers bouncing each bubble with a fairy inside
giving each a beautiful and peaceful joy ride.
T Reams
Copyright © TAMMY REAMS | Year Posted 2015
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Fairy Poem
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Concaving thought’s that try to escape
They have no substance in the life awake
Like an amoeba a thoughtless form
Trying to manifest in the early morn...
Morning has broken near the wishing well
As the fairies cast their magic spell
Love and sunshine be their quest
And thus invite you as their guest...
Feb.29.2016
Copyright © Winged Warrior | Year Posted 2016
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Fairy Poem
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There stood an imaginary, invisible houri fairy
A bride under a maple tree
Dressed in prism-hued layers
of chifon in ethereal shimmers
and delicate gossamer
She having her weeny wedding in the fall
And fairy folk bustled about all round her
as flimsy and flighty as they could be
while red-gold leaves fell down upon her
in ceremonial nuptial
An autumn's ritual
and as nature's pretty confetti!
Branches denuded
Yet autumn's august
for the wilting's
ravishing!
The willowy fairy
almost drowned
in gorgeous fallen maple leaves
Playing hide 'n'seek with her brownie groom camouflaged in the heap.
Copyright © S.zaynab Kamoonpuri | Year Posted 2015
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Fairy Poem
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Between the trees tall figures
Sisters hidden by perfect mirrors
Behind shivering trees pale and drawn
Shadows snicker at glories dawn
Fairies draw near flickering sheer petal wings
By quivering glimmer perfect mirrors swing
A verdant sea of cushion ferns and bushes
Admiring absolute spring beauty wishes
A magical playful fairy
Crowning grace
Streaming lace
Clustering ferns trace
Gossamer wings case
A shadow that goes in and out a pearl of merry
11/15/2016
Copyright © Eve Roper | Year Posted 2016
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Fairy Poem
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Forevermore, this fantastical
free verse features
a fortuitous tale
featuring forty-four flirty
frilly fabricated faeries
fractionally forsaken,
forever fictionalized
philosophically and phonetically
free to force
feisty forest phantoms
to frenzy. These feisty forest faeries,
frequently act like
femme fatales, for whom
we fire phantoms feel free
to fixate for future faerie flocks.
Foundationally, this un-formidable free verse
is free of falsities, but fraught with fiction and fantasy.
Copyright © Caren Krutsinger | Year Posted 2018
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Fairy Poem
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A funny frog called Mr Snog,
once lived beside a slimy bog,
he was a most peculiar fellow,
his hat was red, his boots were yellow,
his waistcoat was an olive green,
the strangest sight you’ve ever seen,
no matter where you’ve lived or been.
This self-same frog, called Mr Snog
had woes of every catalogue.
To move forward he hopped backward,
making life extremely awkward.
His funny face with fretful frown
made him such a comic clown,
for his whole world was upside down.
Now once the frog, named Mr Snog,
who lived beside the slimy bog,
had been a very different fellow,
his boots then red, his hat was yellow.
A handsome prince of some renown,
upon his head a golden crown,
and nothing then was upside down.
For then his name, was not the same,
around his realm they would proclaim;
‘He is the bold, the great Prince Gons,
whose fame is sung in many songs.’
In everything he did excel,
gallant, witty, brave as well,
until misfortune him befell.
Alas to say, in early May,
a witch had happened by his way.
She really was a hideous hag,
and nasty things were in her bag.
An eye of newt, a puppy’s tail,
six slimy slugs and half a snail,
some grizzly bits to make you quail.
Prince Gons had rode from his abode,
to find this witch had blocked his road,
‘Out of my way you wretched bag,
out of my way you ugly hag.
I am the bold, the great Prince Gons,
whose fame is sung in many songs,
to whom this land around belongs.’
With such disdain he did proclaim,
the exalted nature of his name!
He stared, he glared, he leered and peered,
upon that witch that looked so weird,
‘Out of my way, or you’ll pay dear.’
Yet not one word did cause her fear,
for being deaf, she could not hear.
But from his look she umbrage took,
and so that witch resolved to cook,
within her pot a fiendish brew,
to teach that prince a thing or two.
And setting out to cast a spell,
by calling demons out of hell,
she brewed a stew - with ghastly smell.
This stew she threw – it didn’t miss! –
all over Gons. Then with a kiss,
upon his face - oh what a joke -
she vanished in a puff of smoke!
Gons then had a nasty feeling,
round and round the sky was wheeling,
sending all his senses reeling.
When he awoke, this self-same bloke,
could only make a feeble croak.
And to his horror he now found,
that everything had turned around,
shrunk to a frog, whose name was Snog,
who sat bemused within a bog,
with woes of every catalogue.
Within this bog, there was a log,
and on this log, sat Mr Snog,
gazing mournfully at the sky,
eyeing all that passed him by.
From time to time he’d try to speak,
with feeble croak, so sad, so weak,
his life just then was really bleak.
When meaning ‘Yes’ - as you might guess -
was not the word he did express.
Instead of ‘Yes’, he would croak ‘No!’
All were confused and all said so,
but if, perhaps, you knew him better,
you could substitute each letter,
and then it really wouldn’t matter.
Moving backward, never forward,
made his life extremely awkward.
Now who could help him, who could tell
him, how to break that witch's spell?
He flopped around within the mire,
never growing one inch higher,
until a meeting did transpire.
One sunny day in early May,
a princess chanced to pass that way,
her hair was gold, her figure neat,
she walked upon such dainty feet.
that now squelched in the murky mire,
nearly ruining her attire,
her situation was quite dire.
Just for a laugh, she'd left the path,
to cut her journey quite in half,
she was sure it would be quicker,
she was sure that she was slicker,
than her nasty little brother,
who’d said, ‘Race you home to mother.’
- How they hated one another!
While she was stuck within the muck,
bemoaning all her rotten luck,
She then perceived this curious fellow,
whose hat was red and boots were yellow,
it was our hero Mr Snog,
every inch a funny frog,
sitting gormless on a log.
‘Help, help,’ she cried . ‘I'm terrified
I’m really lost, I need a guide,
to take me from this murky mire,
that's totally ruined my attire.
Please help me now. I'm sure you know,
how from this place, the way to go.’
But Snog, when meaning ‘Yes’, croaked ‘No!’.
She was confused, she was bemused,
that this odd creature had refused,
to help her in her hour of need.
'What can I say, how shall I plead?'
She pondered so, then filled with woe,
wept, ‘Won’t you show the way to go?’
But Snog, whilst thinking ‘Yes’, croaked ‘No!’
‘I implore you, I'll adore you,
something, anything I’ll do for you.
just name your price, I know the king,
he’ll give you almost everything.
Oh please don't leave me in distress,
oh please don't leave me in this mess.’
Alas, our hero just croaked, ‘Yes!’
First she shivered, then she quivered,
then finally, she grew quite livid.
She screamed at this outrageous fellow,
whose hat was red and boots were yellow,
‘You are the most obnoxious frog,
to leave me helpless in this bog,
to wander aimless in the fog.’
Then on a whim, she grabbed a limb,
with all her strength she hurtled him,
high into the silvery sky,
wondering if this frog might fly.
But as she flipped him, her foot tripped,
upon her back our princess tipped,
into the slimy mire she slipped.
Our hero, Snog, was quite agog,
for being airborne, for a frog,
was a most extraordinary feeling,
sending all his senses reeling.
The sky and earth became a blur;
falling now he did not miss her,
landing on her open kisser!
Now, as she fell, she’d given a yell,
which helped to break that witch's spell.
For when she kissed the hapless Snog,
it changed him back from being a frog,
and to a prince he now returned,
who sat there looking unconcerned.
whilst in the slimy mire she squirmed.
Copyright © David Furlong | Year Posted 2015
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Fairy Poem
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I’m not real….
I’m a woman woven from wonder’s imagination
Ethereal….the cotton candy of a dream
the glow and sparkle of a stream
the luxuriant lusciousness of cream
the sparkle that scintillates the surreal
the smooth softness of silky feel
But I’m not real…
I’m the sparkle left of angel dust
the fair fairy in fiction’s feast
the tantalizing temptation tease
the benevolence of balmy breeze
Oh….
But, I’m not real
I’m not real…
You catch only glimpses of me
in what I want to reveal
What I want to conceal
I’m not real….
but when you read
those little rhymes
and poetry lines
Those emotions that you feel?
Those?
Yes!
Those are real….
Eileen Manassian
Copyright © Eileen Manassian | Year Posted 2015
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Fairy Poem
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The Queen of the fairies, Abella Azura
In the glitter of silver moonlight
A magical place in silence
Nothing can be more truthful than that fairies exist
They are the angels little helpers with thin silk wings
Not many people have seen a fairy
Their love is tied together with velvet ribbon
Fairies are a bit shy, small and quiet
If you listen with your heart you will hear them sing
Always trust your instincts ~ a pessimist will never believe or see
I'm sure your garden is full of fairies
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26.06.2016
- Sun :) - A-L Andresen :)
- Copyright © All Rights Reserved
Copyright © Sunshine Smile | Year Posted 2016
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Fairy Poem
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Inside this forest
so bright and mild
a fairy lived
her name, Wonder Child
For all the forest
knew of this girl
to which they knew
she would change the world
A fawn she crept
upon one day
it sensed no danger
no need to escape
Her acquired ability
to speak with those
on four legs with fur
scurrying would go
She was as a spirit
in the woods she did walk
she would talk to the animals
to her they would flock
She'd gentle reach down
and with the smallest of hands
much like the grains of sand
beside them she'd stand
Together as one
the fairy and fawn
if you close your eyes tight
you may see them at dawn
Donna G Fowler
8/7/06
by Donna G Fowler
Review:
"I have seen the fawn wake up at dawn...
and then she did not tarry.
This tiny deer so full of cheer
set out to find the fairy.
She knew that the winged one
would help her through the day
and with the sun at end of day
would quietly slip away.
But fawns grow into beautiful deer
and time just passes on.
Now the mother deer, it is so clear,
seeks the fairy to teach her own."
Donna, I hope you don't think I am presumptuous to think this would improve on your beautiful poem... No, It is just an example of how perfection can trigger creativity in the least of us...
You have my honest admiration and respect for this and many other fine works in your portfolio... Love Ya! Jake
Reviewed by jakepayne
Your review received:
Very helpful
and the following comments about your review:
TY Jake. I admire your wit. What I'd like to see you do is write a continuation of this like you have started. Name it whatever you want, and post me back a message
Mother Doe and Fairy
Inspired by Donna G. Fowler’s
‘Of Fawn and Fairy’
I saw the fawn wake up at dawn...
and then she did not tarry.
This tiny deer so full of cheer
set out to find the fairy.
She knew that the winged one
would teach her the right ways
and with the sun at end of day
would quietly slip away.
Fawns grow into beautiful deer
as time just passes on.
Now the mother deer, it is so clear,
seeks the fairy to teach her own.
The fairy knew her language
and all the others too.
She had tutored many youngsters
in the proper things to do.
The forest had been good to her
and the years had been kind too.
When the Doe felt life within her
she knew just what to do.
She knew just where the fairy should be
each and every day.
She wanted her to teach her fawn
to live the forest’s way.
The mother doe was nearing
the birth of her first fawn.
She arrived there at the clearing
just at break of dawn.
She sensed the fairy knew --
for she felt her presence there.
The comfort she had sought to find
Could be felt in the morning air.
She lay down in the comfort
of a nearby grove of trees
And quietly awaited there
in the cooling morning breeze.
Then she heard the quiet flutter
Of tiny little wings
She saw the fairy coming
as the birds began to sing.
She now relaxed and soon she knew
the peace the forest sends
And she found herself surrounded
by scores of tiny friends.
They all had heard the news
and all had been invited
To come and see the miracle
of two friends reunited.
The fairy knew why she’d been called
to this very special place
She was here to help the deer
receive God’s special grace.
It was not long – it had begun
And quickly, it was over.
There lay the mother doe and fawn
in the comfort of the clover.
The fairy then took stardust
and sprinkled it in their eyes.
Now when they exchange gazes
their love is not disguised.
The fairy and the doe and fawn
then went their separate way
knowing this would not be the last
of many special days.
© Jacob Payne
October 20, 2006
Review:
Jake, I knew you could continue this after what you placed in my review. First I am honored that you were inspired by something I started. Secondly, this is an amazing continuation of my poem. You are so visual in this and I could see the field of clover and the new baby fawn. I felt as if I were there watching. Fantastic job my friend.. I'm so excited!!!!
Reviewed by Donna G Fowler
Copyright © John Posey | Year Posted 2012
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Fairy Poem
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A giraffe approached
We necked
An elephant met me on the jungle path
I stored many thoughts in his trunk
A monkey smiles at me
Now I have no more bananas
A zebra wants to discuss the issues of life
I replied, such things are never black and white
On a boat, an alligator swam by
He offered to sell me an old family briefcase
I have, I confess a gold fish with blonde hair
I named her Donald as bizarre as it seems
I tried to hire a group of rabbits
I said it’s the carrot or the stick
They were hopping mad
Multiplying their demands
I gave in
My coyote lawyer was useless in such matters
Alas as I am older now
So I bought a turtle
He slows me down a little
I slow him down a lot
I now have a great admiration
For Dr Doolittle
Who after all
Did a little and a lot
Although there was that one case never solved
No one though, really gives a quack!
Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2016
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Fairy Poem
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~NeverLand~
(Rhyme)
Wishing I could have been just like you
Never growing up and never growing old
Flying to NeverLand there you go
Facing dangers your spirit grows bold
Hurrying through the lands and all the seas
All your magical adventures there unfold
Watching you I could touch all those trees
Great memories of you in my heart I still hold
Peter Pan the boy that never grows up
And for that I can’t really blame you
Protecting all your dreams inside a cup
While Tinker pouted and saved your life too
Peter Pan there you are in NeverLand
Never growing up, never growing old so you stay
Your catchy magic will never end that I know
As Tinkerbell spreads her magic powder all the way.
Dorian Petersen Potter
aka ladydp2000
copyright@2006
February.4.2016
Copyright © Dorian Petersen Potter | Year Posted 2016
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Fairy Poem
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When I was just a little girl
With mind as always, in a whirl
Me and my cousin, we would roam
Far, far away from my sweet home
We'd make our way to some rocks we knew
All covered by green moss, we two
Oh it was such a magic place
And left huge smiles upon my face
To us it was a fairyland
With imagination vast and grand
We both saw fairies, little elves too
Dancing daintily as they do
When that time came, we had to leave
Both our little hearts would grieve
We'd leave that haven, her and me
Our minds brim filled with memories
So we went back to normalcy
And though it made us both unhappy
We knew that soon we'd go back there
And see those we folk everywhere
Copyright © Vera Duggan | Year Posted 2014
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Fairy Poem
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The flower fairies congregate
around the lily pool then wait
until the stars' resplendent light
illuminate each floating pad.
To taste the sound of petals' song
how quietly... they drift along
above the grove, all clothed in flames
till pixies scatter dust on boughs.
And winging through the air-brushed haze
each little feather gleams anew,
their lacy sequins all ablaze
with varnished gauze of every blue.
Through morning's rise, they’ll fade from view
like stepping stones from me to you...
if you believe, glide far away
around the corner, there's a wand!
Francine Roberts' Around The Corner
by nette onclaud
10/17/2014
Copyright © nette onclaud | Year Posted 2014
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Fairy Poem
|
A crescent moon, shining it's silver smile in the midnight sky
so beautiful, yet so desolate and alone in the vast galaxy.
But, tonight I can see that she has found some company.
An enchanting fairy sits within the crescent
one bare foot dangles off the edge,
into the endless void of the black universe
the other bare foot rests on the moon's surface.
I wonder what that feels like?
Perched with her hands on her knees she gazes at Saturn's rings
watches the comets, with their glittering tails, as they fly by her.
The milky way, so majestic, as are the constellations
the stars wink at her and she reaches out to touch one.
I wonder what that feels like?
There is only the sound of silence way up here
no winds to blow her luminous blonde hair.
The heavens are calm on this night
as a few puffy clouds pass over the Earth.
This is her favorite planet to watch
you wouldn't believe how beautiful the blue oceans are from up here.
Each of it's cities have millions of lights glowing overhead
like a galaxy all it's own.
The wonders of this world aren't so wonderous from her view
so, once in awhile she flits her wings down here
to get a closer view of Big Ben and the Eiffel Tower.
Her favorite wonder, the Statue of Liberty
watches over a busy city, just as she watches from the moon.
While keeping her eye on things and embracing the moon's company.
Copyright © Kelly Deschler | Year Posted 2013
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Fairy Poem
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My garden brings the fairies,
you will never know the hour.
The sun may just be peeping
past the apple tree in flower.
See them? No! But I discern
pixie clues they leave behind:
the fragrant thyme they danced upon . . .
I am always sure to find
a dewdrop mirror clinging
to a blossom hanging low;
I hear their tinkling laughter
when the breezes softly blow.
Sometimes I think I spy them
riding on a firefly's back
at dusk above the garden,
but their pathway's hard to track.
Jumping off, hiding themselves
in moss blankets--soft delights--
their flying steeds unharnessed.
"Go to sleep, my garden sprites."
Copyright, 5/1/2014
Faye Gibson
Copyright © Faye Gibson | Year Posted 2014
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Fairy Poem
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Is there a special place to find you
A place where fairies fly
Where all our memories are kept
Where we need not question why
Can we walk together arm in arm
Strolling our memory lane
Recalling times more pleasant
As I softly speak your name
What a magical wonderful sight
Sharing thoughts here once again
Maybe fairies hold our secrets
And take away our pain
If I could find you in this place
I would hold on to you so tight
Never allowing you to slip away
While fairies take their flight
Copyright © Betty Bateson | Year Posted 2014
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Fairy Poem
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I bet you didn’t know about the fairies
assigned to all the infants that are born.
At night beside her precious charge each tarries
while softly crooning lullabies till morn.
An extra special fairy will be sent
to first-time mothers of a girl or boy,
for when the harried fretting mom is spent,
she only has to look upon her joy.
As magic dust releases from above,
the mother sighs and holds her baby near.
Then particles illuminate the love
of one who coos while cradling her dear.
As fairies go, there simply is no other
as blessed as she who serves the child and mother.
Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2013
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Fairy Poem
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It's night now in harlem, time to explore
Snakes are diurnal, rats love their nocturnal
Life, the subway is a swinging door.
A cockroach crawls before it falls
Catalectic between the broken walls.
It's time to pay the rent and feed children
Feeding themselves from a golden arch
Of junk. Sunday's money is gone to heaven
But Sunday's soul is strung out in a park.
The boundaries of black life draw tourists
From away places, easy to find on Harlem
Streets young girls window shopping closed stores
And vermins that never meets the eyes
When day is bright. Young boys in their pack
Cannot prowl alone, someone must watch the crack
In the wall, the sound of shadowy foot falls
The blind bullet speeding towards a sighless back.
She comes click clacking through the door,
A stilletto shaft of light on the puddle of gore
Why are all her children dead so young?
What happen to black boys in their dreams
To belong? Sisters, be strong, keep the veins
On idle from the needle punctuating
The decisions of a real sinister man. Sisters, I hear
In the blues, thin pointed, small stilletto shoes
Walking through cold, papers blowing the evening news
Across the tangled sounds of aimless feet.
A scrawny, melodramatic light, shines
Where the streets lamps dispossessed of bulbs
Points to the origin of the curling incense
A sweet cat reads children fairy tales
On a carpet that will not fly.
We have a new president
Looking like Malcolm talking like King
But since sister Tubman left us
The genii blew out the lamp
Who is circling the wagon, who is pulling camp?
This north is still far from promiseland
The only thing not found on the ground
In Harlem is cotton,
It is too white for self inflicted wounds.
Cotton burns, it would burn in the night.
We who plant it has none of its delights.
Pour me a pint of blues, give me light
My sorrow drives the economy,
If I die what pall will bear testimony
To the wreaths of wind shivering inthe empty space
Of the shuttered mall.
Read fairy tales Harriet, meant well but went the wrong way
Pinkerton did not stop her, hope decentralizes the wealth
But Marcus, O Marcus was a different thing
They had to prison him. He knew the way to go
Flip flapping wind sail and no stilletto toe
Could carry this burden across so much salt of water
Through these hypertensions of night. Cry for Marcus
To come from his whirlwind, a hollow laughter echoes here.
Copyright © L'nass Shango | Year Posted 2009