Long Fairytales Poems

Long Fairytales Poems. Below are the most popular long Fairytales by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Fairytales poems by poem length and keyword.


Dreamland

In Dreamland's dazzling domain, where fairytales unfurl, A youth yonder yearned, with heart that hoped to hurl, Himself into the hinterland, a hero's journey to embark, To chase the chimeras of change, to leave a lasting mark.

Beneath the benevolent beams of the bright, bisque moon, He bundled his belongings, set to leave quite soon, With a satchel of secrets, a sword sharp and keen, And a map of the mind, where wonders had been.

He whispered to the whimpering wind, a wish to wander well, To find the fragrant forests where the fabled creatures dwell, Where dragons draw their dreams in the dusk's deep purple hue, And fairies frolic freely, under skies forever blue.

Through the thicket of thorns, thistles, and thriving trees, He traveled, tireless and true, with the greatest of ease, For in Dreamland's embrace, each step felt like a song, A symphony of solace, where surely he belonged.

He met a maiden there, with eyes that echoed eternity, Her laughter like liquid light, a melody of the free, Together they twirled through time, two souls in sweet tandem, In forests where the foliage formed a verdant diadem.

The alliteration of adventure, an artful, alabaster thread, Wove through their waking moments, in the land where they tread, Each day dawned with discovery, each night nestled in stars, In Dreamland, where destinies danced, beneath celestial scars.

But as with all fairytales, a twist of fate did appear, A villain, vile and vicious, who sought to sow fear, Yet our hero, with hope as his hardy shield, Faced the fiend in a fray, refusing to yield.

With the maiden by his side, they fought the fearsome foe, Their love, a luminous lance, in the land where dreams grow, And as the dawn's early light began to creep, The darkness disintegrated, and from the shadows, they'd leap.

Victorious, they voyaged, back to the realm of the awake, With the wisdom of Dreamland, a treasure they'd take, For in the heart of the hero, a truth had been penned, That the fairytale's finest tales are the ones we befriend.

So let this lay linger, a lullaby for the lost, For even in reality, dreams are a price worth the cost, And to the young, the brave, who still dare to dream big, May you find your own fairytale, in the night's silver rig.


Premium Member With You I Am Myself

" sounds of swift ivory doves cry out,
   they know how our love does outshine with flickering light-
a million fairytales tremble at us,
  fleeting into the ebon night;
 never cursed or full of deep blight;
for our love loses not insight,
nor does it fail to do what is right,
I embrace you…you hold me tight

saturated in loneliness were you-
  yet you stay with me, longing for my hopelessness to cease,
black ravens plague this existence,
discouraging me with such persistence,
  I knew the pain of loss and despair you carried with ease;
descending onto my grateful knees-
I sense your essence in the breeze

the wind blows, and gusts prevail,
  weeping in the forsaken land of my desolated heart’s remains-
emerging from the dust I was found
   intense obscurity of the calamity I faced before you attains;
your genuine adoration still sustains,
as the tempest rages in warm rains



for I am but a woman (*or man*) craving to be near you for all of eternity-
giving you of myself from the depths of my sincerity,
and I shall feel this pure affection or you, my beloved…eternally.

   and...

sweetheart, you are my perpetual connection,
a whisper of tenderness giving me direction,
my alleviation found in perfection-
bound by love and affection"


September 7, 2019
Lu's Poem Switcha-roo Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Lu Loo

Live Your Life With a Purpose and Don'T With In the Wrong Crowd- Christen Kuikoua

So precious yet so short
Life is indeed to us
Walking around in circles,
wasting around our time
Later, realizing that
Our selfish runs weren't important

Praising the wrong things
Wishing a fairytale life
Well guess what, our world ain't dreamtopia
Want success without efforts
And expect life to role like our selfish wishes
But the truth is life doesn't ever work like that

Why trying to live someone else's life
Trying to fit in the crowd
to be accepted for being someone you aren't
Pretending to be happy to please the people around you
that happens to not even care
I got a question?
If you live my life, then who will live yours
Stop scrolling through Socials
Seeing artificial happiness
Blended with filters
While you are trying to be like them,
They praying each day to be like you

Stop envying because it not
impossible to be a success
For the people you praise for their work
worked extra hours and sweats really hard
to obtain that success
Stop wishing for fairytales and grow up
Because just kids dream of flying like birds
Remember, there is no success without efforts
And never will you stop until your better becomes your best

Once 'pon a poetess

Tuesday, 12:00 am

Tonight t'was the stars
I'll cascade a memorizing moon
Glimmering sanctified silence 
along with 
trickling twilight for 
iconoclast ink, 
the serpentine key to 
sacred myrrh melodies
of my heirloom heart~
O glamorous specs of
citrine care to each
unravelling amber acrostic.

Under wakening oaks
blooming fuchsia fairytales
and coral morganites 
of swallowing solitude,
I weave autumn aventurines 
of the daring
despicable and an
endearing enigma 
of woeful
belladonna blues. 
Whilst stirring up wrinkled 
jasper jupiters of 
milky ways in
weary kaleidoscopic
eyes of a moon 
pearled blanket,
my honeyed haikus
roar a beryl spar against 
virtuoso villanelles
for mystical 
shimmering spotlights
in a tourmaline moon dance~    

Along sapphire sonnets 
of idealized introspection
gurgling inside woe
casting whirls, 
I ponder of whom is 
able to grasp iridescent
chords of my sodalite soul
as well as the vocal
verses of 
cinder cinquains~
For my soaked stanzas
of jade juxtapositions
are topaz tattoos
of pleasant peridots
of every trickling tear; 
yet to remain wiped away.

In an heart sickened
topia of lilt lilacs 
and magnificent miracles,
I forsooth you'll discover
a poetess' daffodil dreams
wrapped in blankets of 
moonstone metaphors~
Waltzing under
whimsical wisteria in
lavender ballrooms 
of gazing serenity sestinas,
I wonder the bliss 
of lolite lagoons
in alluring dreams 
an elysian ear shall
be lent to the 
ode oasis of my
soft hesitant herald heart 
and that vexed verses 
of sojourned stanzas 
will be understood.
Form: Imagism

Paradise Flycatcher

A white flower with a long tail,
glides in the morning breeze;
Like an angel from the fairytales,
he eradicates venomous flies.

Black crown he dons, Angry face he has,
But his immaculate look enthralls ;
His feathers as light as hydrogen gas,
make him float in the sky.

He sings, plunges into the air, 
performs mimicry and gymanstics,
in search of his perfect pair,
who has a very short tail.

Dark brown and delicate white
are the colors they boast;
Though the male alone has a long tail,
both are indeed the bird lover's delight

Indian paradise flycatcher is the new name;
Previously called Asian paradise flycatcher,
As Shakespeare said, what's in a name?
They already achieved fame

08-Oct-2019


Deatheversery

Withering breezes spill 
along the fairytales of my piercing lies
Terracotta earthquakes unravel
an amber-flickering prevail against me

An ebony-surging massacre
disfiguring its ivory mental masquerade  
And I am left truly naked 
in the breath of the light I once was
 
Perhaps It's wrath, is my muse
It's sacred hymns, as belladonna blues
An immovable evil twirling in my veins
poisoning my heart into an eternity of silence 
Alas, its destructive nature raised its symphonies
and my vile pavements shiver without fear

Scream at me again, cast me out
Beat me fiercely and I'll kiss my bruises 
The mockingbirds will grow weary
and his angels will keep humming

And if I were to climb to my death,
your regrets would anoint my memorial 
And I would be forgiven in blood
Swimming its gray ocean turned to stone
unraveling into its crimson shadows 
Crawling into my mother's womb;
and only God would perceive me there

And if I could go, I'd surrender
Bleeding a wine-dark tune 
of an exquisite exhaustion 
Because the songbird has held its breath
and I am suffocating into its demise

So when I leaped, I leaped
in a subterranean heartbeat
Without a drizzling doubt   
as the night bloomed violet 
As the emerald sea sparkled loudly 
As my faith prohibited me

No longer am I afraid..
I am unafraid.

Premium Member Take Care Tonight

Sugar plums and pixie dust, genies who grant wishes
fairytales with happy endings, those are so delicious
walking with the one you love, caught in summer's rain
kisses soft and gentle, the kind that make a tummy pain

Dreams that make you sorry you must ever wake
buttercream licked from the top of a chocolate cake
sugar rushes when feeling low, addictions we all need
never enough of true love, to this we should all concede

I've never heard of a single person dying from an overload
of sweet talking, loving lips, or a box of pecan rocky road.
I'm whipping up a batch of fudge that I will gladly share
the cost to you is one hug, or as many as you can spare.

There's only one point I want to make in this silly little write
it's for you to be careful when the time winds down tonight
Be safe, be kind, keep hold of your mind. Enjoy kisses sweet,
but when that party is over let the pot of soup be your retreat.
© Lin Lane  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member The Hopeless Helper

Once upon a time there was a hopeless man, and all that he wanted was for someone to truly understand
He wanted to help in the only way that he knew how, and so he started his quest so that he could eventually take his bow
He promised to heal a broken heart with his love so true, he offered the naïve girl a solution to all that she had been through
He told her that he had the cure that all that she had to do was believe, and that he could change her life and be her everything

In turn she promised to love him and show him love like he never knew, but in the end due to his decisions she was unable to
He did everything right saying all the right things that she needed to hear, he held her when she cried and wiped away her tears
He told her that she was magical that she couldn’t be real, that he had looked for her his whole life and that now he is able to feel
He held her in his arms and told her his love was true, he said there would never be another that “my heart belongs to only you”

He said that he wanted to be with her until the end of time, but someone must have sped up the ending because you’re no longer mine
You reneged on your promises although you had said you would always stay, but in the end, I was the helper not you I helped you find your way
You took away my heartache, but you also brought me more than I can bare, now I am the hopeless one living in despair
You played your beautiful hopeless music for me that I heard through your heart, and now I have no one to dance with now that we’re apart

I want to come after you I want my revenge for the way that you hurt me, but I will continue hoping and dreaming that you’ll return to me
You half way gave me what you promised that you would, but you didn’t finish what you started although I wished that you could
So now the story is closing, and this is sadly goodbye, you can go ahead and take that bow now while I sit back and cry
I called you the hopeless helper because that is what I perceive, you wanted to believe in hope and help restore me

But in the end, I’m the hopeless one hanging on to these false dreams, and I’m the one that helped you crush my heart and rip it apart from the seams.



This poem is from my book titled Fairytales of Broken Dreams available on Amazon and Kindle. My pen name is Amanda Carroll Kinzer
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member A Little About Me

Twenty-eight, and has lived longer than fifty
                                   Need not tell me any fairytales
                                            For I'm an author
                                                      Of
                                                    Many
                                                    
                                                    FALL
                                                 Not short;
                                             For you are walking
                                      Close to the edge, and in due
                           Time, any false move will cause damage to ALL

Some Fairytales - Limericks

(The Virgin Mary’s Child - Brothers Grimm)

There was an old man with an axe,
Enough food to feed lass, he lacks.
Lass to Virgin Mary,
Heaven keys lass carry,
Lots of snacks, banishment anticlimax.

There was a door of number thirteen,
Forbidden entry with keys, remains unseen,
Teen instead of tot,
Behaved as lass ought,
Lies untold, with family convene.

Or maybe, Mary believed the fib,
Lass gained fat beyond a mere rib,
Felt guilt for the lie,
Did not want to die,
She protected her Heavenly bib.

Perhaps Mary sent her back to be poor,
Disobedience made the Virgin sore.
Lass killed wood prey,
Hard work every day,
She enjoyed it, continued evermore.

(Mr. Fox - English folk tale by Joseph Jacobs)

Lady Mary covets the handsome Fox,
Admittance to his lair harder than entry to Fort Knox,
She does not break in,
The evil groom will win,
Honeymoon, as bride slaughter, is indeed unorthodox.

Perhaps Lady Mary did visit the Fox castle,
Murdered women was not seen as a hassle,
Lady made a list,
Crumpled it in fist,
All the more foes to imprison and space to bedazzle.

(Fairy Mary - Tinker Bell Series)

There was a fairy who kept order and was stout,
She kept her fairy foes working and about,
Not well-liked,
Imagine spiked,
Efficiency useful, but it doesn’t erase doubt.

Maybe there was a beloved fairy instead,
Who hardly ate for all the work in her head,
Toothpick thin,
Fakeful grin,
Her smile only true while passed out in her bed.

(Queen Mary I aka “Bloody Mary” aka Mary, Mary, Quite Contrary)

The Queen punished Protestants fierce,
Each body, another garden plot and pit pierce,
Tombstones are flowers,
Made by monarch powers,
Carriages carry corpses, require no hearse.

Rows of tools fill each station,
Bodies attached from many a nation,
Protestants in droves,
Some missing clothes,
Whatever befits their cause for damnation.

The Holy Mother of Poet would not approve,
Such speak of my mouth, with soap, she would remove,
Beliefs absolute!
Heresy! Refute!
Even a heartfelt apology could not opinion improve.

Many gardens consist of a collection,
Often of things or organisms that elicit affection,
Small changes will appear,
Light, dark, always near,
Owner’s perspective could require dissection.
Form: Limerick

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