Dec 2013
Walking in our garden,
sun sailing across the sky,
I saw a tiny winged-girl,
from the corner of my eye.
She flew down off the wall,
but did not try to hide.
“Hello there,” I said to her.
“Good morning,” she replied.
“Do children visit here,
I so love to see them play?”
“Yes they do,” I told her, as
she danced and hopped away.
“Then I will return,” she sang,
her tiny voice sweetly shrill.
Then flew into our willow tree,
I think she lives there still.
© Paul Chafer 2014
sun sailing across the sky,
I saw a tiny winged-girl,
from the corner of my eye.
She flew down off the wall,
but did not try to hide.
“Hello there,” I said to her.
“Good morning,” she replied.
“Do children visit here,
I so love to see them play?”
“Yes they do,” I told her, as
she danced and hopped away.
“Then I will return,” she sang,
her tiny voice sweetly shrill.
Then flew into our willow tree,
I think she lives there still.
© Paul Chafer 2014
My first poem about fairies, I have since written around fifty or so and I find girls of all ages are fond of them.
(England)
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