Roaming in the corridor,
The fairy chuckled,
Mesmerized by the beauty of her own dress,
She grew self-assured in her little fairy school.
The multi-colored tutu,
inlaid with wild flowers;
Rivaled her silver sandals,
Which gleamed like her sparkling wings behind.
Then came the final day,
Bidding farewell to her tiny realm,
She moved ahead.
With sadness and excitement intertwined,
She decided to work through,
Until she became the best.
The moment she stepped into the real world,
She realized,
The tutu she wore was nowhere near the fairy gowns.
The praise and love she once received had faded into lies.
Maybe the tutu she wore was the best tutu, but not the best gown.
Carrying the weight of sudden change,
She still chose to enhance her tutu’s grace.
She rushed to the fashion store and cheerfully exclaimed:
"Get me the Cancan underskirt, fabric and shimmery pearls packed!"
The seller shot her an irksome look,
and Demanded fifty golden bricks.
The helpless fairy turned hopeless,
For she could have earned those bricks—
Only if she had a fluffy gown dress.
Statuesque in womanly shape
Satin soft hair waist length long
Almond eyes of hazel brown
Long lashes sweeping down
on porcelain skin and rosy cheeks
Fulsome lips of luscious pink
Glistening around white gleaming teeth
She laughs in girlish tone
deepening to a breathless sigh
Her dress a nineteen fifties frock
A stuck out skirt of polka dot
Over a netted underskirt
Strappy heels of strutting kind
Black patent bows ankle bound
Her dainty manicured hand
flashes an engagement ring
of diamonds sparkling bright
Sorry to disappoint all other men
Who look and look back again
As very soon she shall be my wife.
The reigning monarch's hammered earth
decided far before my time of birth
ne'er so ~ the Country stood its girth,
in deprivation's underskirt!
Not owning, as the lien's turf
was solely living as reserve
and all beneath was seized by nerve
and I now walk on grass' conserve!
There be it all ~ the earth owns earth
and I in question only worth
that risk of time, called latent serve
so late of rhyme, I now observe!
Defenseless, but of God's deserve
my being's rights ~ not llens that curve!
The reigning monarchs hammered Earth
decided since my time of birth.
Ne'er so ~ the country stood its girth
in deprivation's underskirt!
Not owning, as the lien's turf
was solely living as reserve
that all beneath was seized by nerve
and I now walk on grass conserve!
There be it all ~ the Earth owns Earth
and I in question , only worth
that risk of time called latent serve,
so late of rhyme, I now observe ~
Defenseless, but of God deserve
my being's rights ~ not laws that curve!