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Levi Sharpe Apr 28
I was lured to the garden by the scent of fresh berries

With fruit so fresh as if it tended by faeries

I plucked a morsel from an extending branch

And without hesitation, put the pome to my lips

Savoring it for a sweet moment before devouring it whole

Eagerly lapping at my stained finger tips

So enamored I was by each bright sensation

I was unaware of the nettles, whose spines creeped and settled

Sinking into my flesh, and poisoning the bone

First there was an itch and then a sharp pain

As I was torn away from what I couldn’t lay claim

And what at first seemed a garden was but a damp grave

The plant tags were tombstones

Of others who’d strayed

As I fell prone from my festering abrasions

A curious sound my ears did chance

The soft ringing of the faeries’ death knoll
Kai May 2
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.
Jules AA Apr 4
the faeries play
around ancient oaks
on the mushrooms and
little toy bridges
hidden in the bramble.
dancing drunk
in the late afternoon sun,
they sing but no one hears.
plastic can’t speak, after all.
Georgia Jan 7
Wet falls on the striking lines of cobble
On the swerving paths of trouble
My socks are damp and my feet are cold
Light climbs on the dusky evening
Sharp as faerie wings
Hot like golden spring
My eyes are closed and
My hands are bound

There are rats at the dip of the grass before
The ***** to the water begins
Before the moulding wind sings
On the spine of a duck’s back
There are trees and trees and trees
That live in solace without wings
That rise with a curved branch
Towards the sky

Green air tinged durky damp
Leave spots on fading paths
Where my scared footsteps leave no visible mark
Is there a curse among the leaves?
A misgiving in the trees?
I open my door to a bumbling kettle
Go home breathing empty grey
To dream of the lake.
ah there's a lake near my house and it's so magical there I never stop thinking about it! it's not quite as dark as the lake in this poem, but you get the gist.

the title of the poem comes from the origins of the word 'lake' - it could mean 'pit of ****' in Old English, apparently :) dramatic, right? also I made up the word durky which was extremely fun.

horray for my first poem of 2019 :D
Kelci Jun 2018
Come and sit beneath the tree
We'll watch the fairies, wild and free
Shimmering wings dart here and there
Carrying tiny beings without a care
On tiny toadstools they do land
With blooms and berries in their hands
Wearing broken twigs and maple leaves
And bits of moss torn from the eaves
Now that they've finished playing games
They'll dance and sing round brilliant flames
Underneath a shining crescent moon
Til' dawn they'll sway, and drink, and croon
And when the sun is overhead
It will finally be time for bed
Magic flows throughout the night
When dainty fairies are filled with delight
Adam Robinson Jan 2018
Take the halos from our heads;
Grabbed hold of the burden;
Placed them in our eyes and saw;
That pretty face in pain;
& caught our small souls - so raw,
I could even feel you again.

We needed to set you free;
From angels eyes aglow;
So you are not alone;
But our nature hides from view;
This twilight dream has hailstone,
& battered my heart so blue.

If heaven ever took heed;
from our grey creatures fey;
It would know of fairer things;
& not slay 'twisted' love;
You claw at your doll's heart-strings,
But fawn over the silk glove.
You reach into yourselves,
and find no magic dove.
But there is a answer,
to calm your weathered friends,
Creep into the old stories,
let them be known onto you,
greet them like old siblings,
and they will not smother you.
They lost no war in clouds,
and seek and look with no frowns,
they carry themselves with pride,
not banished or forced to hide,
Listen to their song,
Protect their corroding land,
Look at them softly,
and hold onto their immortal hand.
If iron modernity is too much,
In its boil, steam and hiss,
Listen and know only this -
For the faeries hold more wisdom,
than the banker's unkind system.
Let The Melody Shine
Journey of Days Oct 2017
faeries are beautiful
but wicked creatures
their craft and skill
beguiles and deceives
much like your hand and tongue
well practiced with lies
wrapped in the finest silk and embroidered with gold thread
ethereal in this  poorly lit world
where identity is fluid
and man bargains for his soul
trading it for winged creatures
that offer nothing but sparkling dust
and an immortal hangover
we have lost the plot
sold it to the highest bidder
and gambled our souls
in a land of faeries

I have no explanation for just happened
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