Long Faeries Poems
Long Faeries Poems. Below are the most popular long Faeries by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Faeries poems by poem length and keyword.
The gracefulness of her inner light preceded her
Sjeda landed with dignity, wearing her truth for protection
Other faeries fell silent, recognizing her as the one
They had seen in their Christmas dreams for many years
Her entourage was warned to not get too close
She wanted to assess things for herself,
So they came in wearing indivisibility suits
Prophetess fairies could sense them, but kept quiet
Sjeda reveled in the prettiness of the snow dusted trees.
She had seen fir trees in her visions, and they smelled like heaven
Not like faerie heaven, but the real heaven, or so she guessed
No one greeted her. The commoners were too stunned.
The forest was twinkling with diamond sparkles of snow.
It was the most glorious and prettiest sight in the world.
She giggled and saw her breath; others giggled, relieved.
Come play, she urged them. Come meet my friends and dine.
Her entourage appeared, and the faeries joined her.
They drank hot cocoa and apple cider. There were cinnamon sticks.
Memories were made that day, and the only present was
The present of the Faerie Queen, it was by far enough for the rest of their lives.
The unicorn eggs had been hidden many fortnights ago,
The last to remember them was a Prophetess named Woe.
She had written down the secret sign to open the safe of gold
But it had blown under the throne room floor now lay cold.
Because it was their tradition, armed guards continued to stand guard.
Having no idea they were guarding priceless unicorn eggs sung by a bard.
A magical castle this had once been, with glorious tapestries and such.
But the war of the Giant Blasters had torn it apart; now it was not much.
Too many rulers had been slain in the last five battles, queens and a king.
He had been too vocal, and had been cut to ribbons by a shot from a sling.
The blood of the sixteen queens who had died had seeped into the floor.
The current ruler had asked for someone to clean it, for it was full of gore.
A troupe of faeries were hired, for they had managed to give the smallest bid.
Were also on a mission of hope and faith, for they knew what Woe had did.
When they chopped up the floor, they tunnel into the unopened safe.
They squirreled those unicorn eggs back to fairy land to their Princess Grace.
The guards continue to guard the gold safe daily, thinking it holds riches.
It truly is practically empty but sh! None of us want to be snitches.
I heard the sawing drone of the diligent bumblebee before he emerged from the coneflower. He was preoccupied, and busy, heading for his next marigold. It does sound like a buzzing, I thought. I did not realize a bumblebee was so intimidating close up. He wears more black on his stripes than I knew.
I returned to my weed pulling, careful to not annoy or injure my garden visitor. A monarch flew up to me next, she sat on my shoulder for a second. Then she was gone. This is flitting, I thought. The sun was getting hot, but I could not leave yet; I felt strongly that faeries and brownies were counting on me to pull these weeds out, so the flowers could prim and preen a little more proudly.
a bumblebee
pretty monarch and faeries
snake waiting in grass
I hold three magic rocks in my hand
Over and over and over I roll them
leaving this reality far behind
Into enchanted mist, I stroll then
How do I know it's magic? Because
a tiny man beckons, as I pause
What's going on? I try hard to think
Then, Tinyman laughs, gives me a wink.
I follow through a tiny green door.
I'm suddenly small, tumbling before
landing amid blossoms' tangled scent
and faeries wondering my intent!
This land has soft, watercolor skies,
heart-shaped clouds, a lavender sunrise
Where faeries dance each night until dawn
then leave faerie circles on each lawn
They're delightful in every way,
I'd like to stay awhile, if I may!
Oh, Raggedy Ann is here, I see
and my old baby doll that could wee.
And my dolls made of paper so light
with lovely clothes to change til alright
And Scarlet O'Hara, with dark curls
and pretend makeup only for girls!
Sometimes recalling childhood brings tears
The fleeting moments of passing years
Memories linger of younger days
before Time and Childhood parted ways.
Childhood is now seen only in dreams
And, faeries have traveled on, it seems
Tinyman now just appears in mists
To remind us magic still exists...
if we believe
She conjured what she wanted
Visualizing it and expecting it
Others scoffed, but she blocked their laughs
Her dendrite field was in touch with a heart that believed
One chance in a million a grumpy chicken said in Chicken Run.
“There IS a chance then,” the optimistic chicken said.
As soon as she stopped laughing, she realized it was her mantra
There is always a chance.
It is the believing that brings it.
You can manifest whatever you can see
She saw a lot, and was not disappointed
Living her life with optimism, positivity and hope.
Not hearing the grumbles and gripes of those
Who did not understand or believe in faeries
or know how to visualize; she was too busy
attaining, loving, and being enthusiastically herself
to notice what others were doing.
Rainbow faeries in the sky, painting furiously and fabulously
God’s magic in the hands of the mystics.
His glorious red, representing our life’s blood
after it hits oxygen. Showing nature her full beauty
in the scarlet coneflowers and crisp crimson strawberries.
Flat out showing off in tomatoes.
Rainbow faeries in the sky, hurrying before we catch them.
God’s colors in their nimble hands.
His glorious orange, making us feel optimistic,
throwing a laugh into the rainbow, bringing a sense of play.
Orange, my favorite color, which is shown in
butterflies and marigolds, a sense of whimsy and fun.
Rainbow faeries in the sky, racing toward their favorite color.
The color of the sun, showing their full out yellow, which
gives enthusiasm and joy to the rainbow, softening the
other colors, acting as a beautiful companion, cheering them
all on with an exuberant happy cheer.
Rainbow faeries in the sky, settling down with calming green.
Throwing it in sparingly, as it is already in every meadow,
forest and field. The ultimate color that slows us down, allowing
our breathing to calm us, making us feel nurtured and a part
of nature.
Rainbow faeries gladly adding a touch of blue, the color of
sky and sea, the color that takes our eyes to heaven, and helps
us remember we are here to love each other, showing us compassion and empathy, giving us peace.
Word Calibration in G Major
‘Don’t worry honey.
No one walks this way.
At least, not at this hour.’
The neons inside the dark house,
Across the street over there,
Are aglow with ghostly shadows,
Flickering like strobes in slow motion.
Just our car parked here now, and
No one is around. Nothing
Except Dream faeries dressed as opossums.
We are alone at last, and
It is time to touch firm bodies together.
It is time to be alive once again.
Your top two buttons are unfastened, I see.
Shh, be still as I unbutton the bottom two;
My left hand knows where to go;
I will now kiss and caress your soft perfumed neck,
As my searching fingers follow their bead.
‘Shh, what’s that sound?’
Loud voices coming this way,
Formless voices strolling by on parade;
‘Shh, duck down and don’t make a sound,’
As we continue to kiss and lick excited flesh,
Embracing in silent sweat,
Ensconced under a flaming white blanket,
Inside a lavender blue ’72 Land Yacht.
There is a moonless sky outside, and
A creeping fog beginning to settle in.
‘Ahh, I see that you are cold, honey.
Here is my hat,
Cover yourself.’
Timmy Titmouse had two loves, both faeries, and delightful.
The differences between them were miniscule, not insightful.
They were both empathetic, kind, and they always loved him so.
Timmy had trouble thinking about just one, both of them glow.
Why not find another titmouse? His parents asked in a stern way.
He did his best, but always came back to faeries, at end of day.
Pink Faerie was nurturing, she had fixed his injured paw.
Blue Faerie was a joy to observe, on her mushroom named Daw.
He liked them both ever so much, for they had been totally kind.
He also like it that both of them had a soft heart and inquiring mind.
Why not another titmouse? His brothers and his sister asked him.
He would think of this when he was running track in the gym.
Why is it always faeries? He asked himself. Why not another titmouse?
Hi there! Someone said. He turned and stared at the Faerie named Touse.
Touse was a red faerie, and she had a smile that lit up the room.
They were soon conversing on FaceTime and Zoom.
Now there were three faeries, and Timmy Titmouse loved them all.
His parents kept begging for grandchildren, and he had to stall.
Why not a titmouse? His grandma asked, irritated and kind of mean.
But Timmy was a connoisseur of faeries, they were each his dream.
A Gemini, I have a mercurial personality.
This means I successfully eliminated a lot of jobs
Before settling on my current position.
The children I work with do not question it
when my burgundy hair gets a white stripe down the part.
They know I am older. I tell them I am a hundred and fourteen.
It makes them laugh.
My eyes are the same shape and hazel color as my daddy’s
and my identical twin sister; we have Daddy’s whole face actually.
I am an artist, and I love all colors but especially orange, yellow and pink.
I paint whimsical fantasy cartoons – mushroom houses, faeries,
witches, goblins, elves, cats, dogs, dragons, pirates, and warrior women.
It is a compulsion that I find extremely relaxing.
I am a licensed hypnotherapist, so I could hypnotize you
but not if you take any kind of drugs – I discovered that the hard way
more than one time.
I have had over nineteen dogs and ten cats; I am down to four.
Two dogs – Sophie Helen and Buddy and two cats – Shark and Nemo.
They are fans of Bluegrass music, because it is my favorite.
My name is Caren, and it was spelled with a C because in the fifties
the “style” was to name identical twins with the same first letter.
I have a really good life – I have been married for fifty years to the same guy.
We have three daughters, two sons-in-law, and ten grandchildren.
My joy is to spend time with them.
However, the pandemic has slowed this down.
I am optimistic that things will get better!
I have paint on my fingers, my face and my nose.
Waking up at three or four in the morning to play in my studio
Every single morning? No but most of them
Because painting makes my heart laugh
Painting keeps me young, and full of enthusiasm
Painting my cartoon people fills me with joy and glee and mirth
I did not always have this hobby; it was gifted to me by my granddaughter
At nine she was a notorious artist in the family
I had purchased paints and canvases for her.
While she painted, I drew. I am a cartoonist.
I draw whimsical things- faeries, brownies, elves, pirate queens, unicorns and dragons.
She begged me to “waste” a canvas on myself. I was reluctant. They cost eight dollars each.
Now I buy canvases in bulk. I have an art studio. I start almost every day painting.
It brings me joy, optimism, and peace of soul.
I am an artist, a painter, and I am thrilled.