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Angela Okoduwa Jul 2016
There's a fae
Who lives in a fern.
Her wings so little,
Her feet so kittle.

She was a tease,
But certainly not the least.
She flits through the grass,
With a skimpy dress of brass.

She hides in the shrub,
And offers a defiant shrug.
Her whistles beckons to the birds,
Even the goblins dare leave their beds.

Her step on petals are of light springs,
Even with hair tied in ribbon strings.
Mischievous little thing she was
Other wary faes ought to pause.

So carefree she treads,
Even mama could not knot her in a thread.
Most often, mama warns and shoos
Always, she'd never heed but coos.

One moon-ful night,
When she forgot her plight,
Into the sky, unwarily she soars,
And ends up torn in the bellies of owls.

With all her strenght did she beat
But the night birds had had their bits!
A mournful dirge for a fae no bigger than a wasp,
But who ends up dying with a gasp!
Elizabeth Burns Oct 2016
Enchant me
Beguile me
Take me to a place no man has ever been
Take me away on a magic carpet ride
Show me the world
Be my prince
Take me into a land of faes and fairy wonders
Take me away...
And I will never come back
Take me to the second star to the right...
Make me a princess
Enchant this damsel in distress
You heroic knight in shining armour
Give me your handkerchief and recite a poem for me
Pick up my glass slipper in distress as I run from the ball to my pumpkin carriage
Take me away to wonderland
And lead me on trails I can never find again
Crown me Princess of Narnia
Lead me into a wardrobe of wanders
Enchant me
Beguile me
Take me away...
ΟΥΤΙΣ Mar 2015
under these ocean waves
sheltered from apollo’s rays
old neptune’s tower lays
with travertine and marbled glaze
and filled to brim with tiny faes
the twilight crawls with little haste
to bring a night that lasts for days
Night time steps in

And your presence stretches out

From my head to my bed.



As I spin the wheel for me

And for the world,

I pull together your fragments.

To rediscover, to refine pieces of you.



Morning snatches you away from me,

Dissipating your image to the sunlight.

Yet, it cannot dissolute the saccharine cravings

Or the savory memories from your embrace.

But I worry not, for I recognize

Even the microcosm of imprints left behind.



I can trace your hairline

Out in the arms, head or face

Of a passenger in the bus or train.

It was no wonder where to find you.

You were no stranger to my senses.



I can draw out your eyes

From stones of garnet or granite.

I can hear your heartbeat, your laughter from Irish violins

And Spanish guitars are your private echoes, your fondling whispers.



I can split the distinct outline of your smell

From cinnamon, vanilla and caramel;

Or figure the blueprint of your flavor

Out of morning dew or spring rain.



Tales of heroes from novels or poetry

Are narratives where I retrieve

How safe it felt to be with you.



I only ache for you in every fraction of my reverie,

The incessant reminder of my liquefied reality.

And in the evening you won’t get lost,

For I am all aglow, pointing you home.




Only in your hands

I can submit without dread

And you’re the sole being that knows

The second color of my eyes,

My fingers that memorize every hair trail

On your jaw line, chest and arms.



Your body is just attuned to my secret dance,

Breaking and making the iridescence of dreams.

Only you can read the symbols crowning my head

And kiss me like eternity is born from world’s death.



Earthbound spirits envy this romance of ours,

As Faes bless this furtive union.

So please don’t be far too long,

For even time and distance my dear

Are painful pleasures to my soul,

My addictive links to you.



I await your return tremendously, my lover.

Hold me still and play our song to sleep.

Don’t need to know if you’re my own design,

Or a pattern I recreated.

As long as we remember

What binds us together.

In the shadows of the day

And in the glimmer of the night.
First shared in my blog dreamweaversplane.tumblr.com
Mars Jan 2019
there is nothing more soft, close in my mind
than the mirth-full screeches that reverberate off the trees
romping around with curiosity and a marvel wonderment at the world hidden away
I haven't been there in a while, no,
just like Keats I feel more home among the palace of the faes.

If you leave behind the forest, the trees do make a sound,
even if there isn't a soul there to know what is being said
I've heard it in a dream of mine
It's the sound of child-like wonder being buried.
but just like all things rooted in something deeper,
it will take only growth to bring me back there again.
In short, I really miss just randomly going into the woods and walking around for hours. It was even more fun when I went with friends. I feel like I do get outside a lot, but it's freezing here. It makes me want to take cover under blankets, but this weekend I think I need to reconnect with this side of myself. Anyway, this was just a quick write. I like how it turned out, but it's been a while since I've written something that surprised me. I think I need to keep up with it a lot more, because it's easy for me to get started, it just seems like I'm experiencing so much but none of it is really good enough. I should write down some idea that I have randomly of experiences that would make a good poem and then go from there. I hope you guys like this one, I know it's not the best of mine and I can do better but it still means a lot to me, it's still a piece of my heart. Have a great day/weekend, and don't forget to set aside some time for art, if you'd like. :-)

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