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Hannah Christina Feb 2020
“Will you barter for your garden?”
the familiar stranger taunted.

His haunting talk caught on a loose thread in my heart,
recalling time and battles fought.

Make no mistake about the fae.
I must admit I was afraid, for I have seen my adversary

tear out the grass’s screaming hair,
poison the soil with atmosphere arid,
strip the baby branches barren,
shave the landscape clear.

I need not obey him.  
I have in my hands a *****
and around this place an angry hedge.
He can not prevail unless I show him the way.

“No,” say I,
“No bartering in my garden today.”
This one was for the poetry class I'm taking(!).
The assignment was to write a rhyming or metered poem.  I decided to use assonance focused around the letter "a" as much as possible.  This is not a way that I often use rhyme.  I really, really like it.  It stitches the words together without feeling to sing-song or structured.  If you scroll back to my stuff from a year or two ago, you'll see that I used a lot of line-end rhymes and lots of meter.  I don't like the way that kind of structure feels anymore, but I also don't like writing poems that ignore the use of sound.  This is a happy medium for me.
Toni Feb 2020
I often dream of a place
Far from home
Deep in the woods
I’m sure you know.
Away from the people
The buildings
The noise
Where the witches dance
And the fae rejoice
In their absence.
I can’t keep the woods out of my head, I just want to dance under the moon and laze away my days in grassy knolls.
Crow Oct 2019
Faerie;
With your golden eyes,
your sharp-toothed smile,
the words you spin in gossamer,
in starlight,
in orb-weaver silk.

You compose
a symphony in mycelium:
Each tree an instrument,
each interwoven root
a note in harmony.

Silvertongue, sundew,
you have set a snare with green willow,
a net of blackberry thorns,
baited it with honey.
All around, the evergreen pines,
the winter roses bloom.
A sweet end,
arranged in perfect circles
for you and I alone.

I step, happily, toward your waiting arms—
for with your clever, clever fingers,
oh,
sunflower,
you have
stolen
me
away.
steal me.
Crow Oct 2019
(what do you want from me?)

i want you to come with me,
deep below,
down beneath,
let me bury you.

(would it be quiet down there?)

yes,
with dirt in your ears,
dirt on your tongue,
the silence so beautiful.

(and if i don't like it, can i dig myself up again?)

no,
but you won't want to.
the earth will hold you,
the dark will warm you,
the worms will sing to you.

you will never be lonely again.  

(then bury me,
hold me,
don't ever let me go.)
bury me.
Harry Roberts Sep 2019
Fae
A fog so thick that all is engulfed in it
It spreads and grows then it disperses and rises
Within this shroud this faery camouflage.

For a second or a swirling minute
Fairies dance with none to limit
Nature burns no shadows dim it.

Then towards the skies and burrowed in the ground
This essence is released to return to fertile mounds
And when each condition meets then in the fog the fae are abound.
Aurora RW Sep 2019
Fae
She was the Fae to walk the dawn,
Her eyes wide like scarlet moons.
She faced the day like no other,
She fought the sky
She fought the moon
She fought the world with spirit high,
For love, nay for life,
She was brave as was her might,
To spread her wings across the moors,
A Fae to rise and live again
---AuroraRW
Artemis Aug 2019
Do not give your name away.
It is the one thing you should
never
bargain.

There is a strange feeling
that follows you
into the forest and across streams.

Do not turn around.

Don't accept gifts from
beautiful people
who seem far lovelier than they really are.

At least,
not for free.

Don't say thank you.
It's as good as owing debt.
Say you appreciate the assistance,
but never thank directly.

Tread lightly in all things.
Wear bits of clothing
inside out.

Stuff salt in your pockets.

And if you here music flowing from
a nearby stream or ring of mushrooms,
do not dance to it.

You will not be able to stop.
will May 2019
There in the flowers
another watches
writing on petal pages
attentive and fascinated
by the poet that lays
Just expressing the fae loving part of me.
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