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Cné Mar 2017
Sitting on a ****
Having a rest
Dreaming of wearing
A beautiful dress

Hair cascading
Red curly locks
Waste of time, who cares
There are no clocks

Awaiting a happening
With nothing in sight
Mischief merriment
Anything, even a fright

Breena, bored to death
'Tis true
Wanting only,
For something to do.
Wrote this for a painting I did of a red headed fairy sitting on a tree ****.
Knit Personality Mar 2016
I pay respects to Mrs. Claus,
    Samaritan extraordinaire,
The modest queen of Christmastide
    And the north wind and arctic air.

Her role she never boasts, and yet,
    The muse and glory of her spouse,
The great goodwill that Santa shares
    Begins in her and in her house.

She never boasts the good she does,
    And very few have known truth
That children all across the world
    Prepare for her each new lost tooth.

For Mrs. Claus, she wears two hats;
    And when those kids with little paws
Count up their coins, they know she came—
    The "Tooth Fairy", or Mrs. Claus.

* .
Anya Jul 2018
The maiden so fair
In all her grace
The gold leaf in her hair
And snow pedaled face
Night and day we sing
In elegant song
A rhyme to our queen

      And look Oberon!!!!!
Acrostic poem that correlates with another
Josiah Israel Jul 2017
Deep in a magic forest, with big old magic trees
And all the magic creatures that live inside of these

There is a magic island, upon a magic lake
And on the island stands a stool, the like no man could make

And on the stool from dawn to dusk, resides a little man
Who spends his days in deeper thought, than any mortal can…

How does he think so many thoughts, well you must realize,
That though the man is small, his head is twice the normal size.

And as for food, well first of all he quite likes eating bugs
Beetles spiders, grass hoppers, slimy snails and salty slugs!

Inside his beard he keeps a hive, so honey he can eat,
And sips the dew from roses, which he grows atop his feet…

And when the night time brings the cold, the old man doesn't care
He simply covers up, with all his long and tangled hair!

Regardless of his oddities, the man is still renowned,
For being quite the wisest man, who never can be found.
This poem was told to me by a young Fairy on the road to a Wishing Well near my house.
Beaming parents,
Newborn christened,
Warning issued,
No one listened.
And a marquee,
But someone failed
To invite me.

Baptismal gift
Almost apt
Dragged behind
Badly wrapped.
Turning circles
With the blackboard squeal
Of an antiquated
Spinning wheel.
Rich Hues Jan 8
Like her sister,
Has a slender, glass waist,
  But she is not as green,
  And lacks taste.

  Both have fragile wings
And whisper things
You didn't want to know.
  One day Absinthe will fly away,
Lets you go.
jane taylor May 2016
enchanted fairy

land upon my windowsill

oh thou mystical

tell me there’s another realm

profer me escape

Ash Rose Mar 2017
If only we could run away
To a land where no one hurts.

How quickly I would go to stay
Unnoticed but never alone.
Real life isn't like the movies:
Too bad, I think to myself, the
Starry skies gazing down at me.

Love, the bittersweet enemy of mine,
Idolized and envied by the naive.
Keeping quiet, my heart screams with
Equal feelings of hate and anger.

How easy it is to see the impact
Everlasting, the way they tear down my
Life; yet without that hidden place to hide in, the
Land beneath our feet falls apart.
Randy Bryte Aug 2016
My Fairy Tale Life Is Over
And I just can't believe it's true
My world is collapsing and falling apart
I feel lost, I feel lonely and blue
Maybe its a nightmare and soon I will open
My eyes to the way that we were
Loving and caring and helping each other
So happy, so safe, and secure
If I am dreaming, and our love we still share
I'll wake her with kiss and desire
She'll pull me in deep and whisper so soft
Her voice sets my heart on fire
I waited my life she was always the one
But now I am empty and I'm coming undone
My Fairy Tale Life is over
And reality is driving insane
The beautiful colours that were filling my eyes
Have now blackend and filled up with pain
The stereo sounds that once tickled my ears
Now screech with guilt I succumb
My soft touch for her is no longer needed, my fingers are useless and numb
My Fairy Tale Life Is Over I fear
I feel dead, alone, and afraid
For I am the reason it's come to the end
And my life is the price I have paid
Cool were the colors of the evening mountain lake
Cool was the breeze that blew across her face.
Cool were her eyes as they gazed back at me.

Gentle were her lips as they sang sweet songs.
Gentle was the water her silk dress dragged upon.
Gentle were the wisps that left her hands.

Bright was the smile she offered me.
Bright were the lights that fluttered off her fingers.
Bright was the day I watched
The most beautiful fairy dance atop the water.
Feel free to critique!
Nassif Younes Mar 2016
Something has kicked the fairy out of me.

I’m not sure when
Or how
But she’s definitely gone.

I used to think in images
But they’ve all been rolled up
And folded into words.
I can’t remember the last time
I remembered a dream.
Any colder and I will start referring to her
As my right-brain.
I need to find my fairy.

She will have glided off like light rain with the wind
Across the meadows
And over the mountains.
She will have washed her face with the spray of every ocean
And rested on a pillow of clouds
Where every side
Is the cool side.
Right now she could be licking icicles
From the roof of a rainbow cave.

Have you seen her?
She’s about yea high
With glittered skin
And a smile disarming
As a hydrogen bomb.

I’m starting to give up
And fall into fantasy about what it will be like
When I find her.
When all the squares will tilt over
And roll themselves into circles,
When words will abandon their meaning
With a sigh of relief
Before floating off the ground
And into the stars.

We will blow smoke rings to form coronas around each other’s bodies
Which will carry us away like bubbles.
I will swallow her laughter
Sweeter than all the magic flutes on earth
And let it sparkle in my mouth
Until all my teeth are dissolved
And grown back
In a world that forgives the indulgent
And savours the childish.

And then…
There she is.
muna Dec 2017
you're scared.
because you've always lived
in a fantasy you made up
inside your head;

too scared to step out
and walk in your glass slipper;
too scared to go bare feet
on broken glass.

you were Cinderella
in your daydreams.
you thought and you hoped
that real life worked like fairy tales.

you stayed inside your carriage
and you dreamt.
but could you fly on the backs
of those wingless dreams?

no, not when midnight came
and they began to vanish;
not when your carriage disappeared;
your world.

then, struck by darkness,
you trip and fall into life's abyss,
and your glass slipper shatters;
your heart.
All those fairy tales are full of it.
Limbotheclown Jan 2018
" I close my eyes and I see you, I've sketched you in my mind. Every detail I feel you. Our ties you can't unbind.  Your lips I drew like ruby's, eyes of diamonds and gold. I long to scream the whispers  of the story, your heart has told. Its much like a fairy tale, its love you cannot bend..but also like a fairy tale, I hope its happy in the end. "
Traveler Oct 2018
How could I ever just simply let you go?
Your beautiful smile that forges
Has now imprinted upon my restless soul
The warm soft glow in your wandering
Bedroom eyes
Your radiant shooting star charm
The chase could never die
Dearest Dark Fairy
Darkness 'til dawn
Shrouded in sparkles
When I catch you it's on!


Thanks Santita
For your beautiful friendship!!!!!
Traveler Tim
You inspired me to write!!!!
Sunflower Girl Mar 2016
Every* place you look becomes bright
Shade and color enveloped in your soul
Of light, of dark, of chaotic serenity
You irrefutably remain
Is there any thing more
Shadow Puppet Sep 2017
In that moment I couldn't believe the words you'd spoken to me
Something is wrong you said it thrice
As if you were saying something new about my life
You're really clueless
It's kind of sad
What makes you think I'd tell you my problems
When you're like 20 years older than my 48 year old dad
You can't stop me from drifting away
You can't make me not escape a place I was bound by chains
My feet were not made for shoes
And I refuse to be caged
You can make dust out of my dreams
And it'd be used by fairies
Kevin J Taylor Oct 2015
Her bags were packed, left by the door. She looked away waiting for her ride to come. Waiting.

You met her on a holiday. You can’t recall who else was there. She’s moved along and left you holding empty air. Empty rooms and empty halls fill the days you've lost count of and left an empty bed alone beside you.

You met her one late-summer day, or was it autumn, who can say? Like falling leaves you fell one for the other. The mornings were the best of all. The evenings melted into dawn and dawn again.

And then one day she said goodbye. Without a word, she said goodbye. Her eyes had someone else inside. You asked yourself when this all started.

Now every girl you see instead, and every time you turn your head, and all the names on every street, the colors of the sky at night, your bed at dawn, days pass you by, whatever tells you you’re alive tells you that you’re dead inside.

You keep her pillow by your own, wake up late each afternoon but still you wake up as alone. And then one day you've cleared your mind, you bring her back and let her slide away again.

Now mornings fade from grey to green, and somewhere in the days between you catch an eye, she catches you and spends a night or maybe two. The hallway and the living room, the shower and the kitchen floor, what else had they existed for?

Now every smell of every flower, every early morning shower and all the songs on every street, the colors of the sky at night, her kiss at dawn, the rising light, whatever tells you you’re a man tells you you’re alive again. Yet stories like this never end like fairy tales.

And every smell of every flower, every early morning shower, and all the songs on every street, the colors of the sky at night, her kiss at dawn, the rising light, whatever tells you you’re a man tells you you’re alive again, at least until this fairy tale is over.
I'd love to collaborate with someone(s) to create a song from this poem.

Not all poems survive. I've lost a few and let others go. My current collection of poems is available on Kindle. It is called "3201 e's" (that is approximately how many e's are in the manuscript which is a very unpoetic title but a reflection on the creation of poetry from common things.)
Shofi Ahmed Jun 2017
Like a southern song singing on a dream scene.
a smooth fairy dance facing the Moon
a thrill of exposing Stonehenge once and for all
a melodious raindrop in the serene pond
a butterfly dance on the rose
a turned on tall tale of the blue peacock
Like a pure belief in heaven without a pinch of salt!
Apple on a Rose Jul 2017
Am I self-sabotaging
is that what this is?
when my minds telling me he's good for me
but my heart wants to resist.
Am I truly in this
Like actually wanting to see where it goes?
He'll tell everyone he is
Even willing to propose.
But what if the feeling isn't mutual,
Just a sick game, manipulated insides?
All of the doubts, thoughts and confusion are drowning
Yet there's nowhere to hide.
I'm expected more of,
And people awe at all we have
Yet how much of it is real
How much of it is fact.
Is it a fact I love you?
Or a fact I thought I did?
Is it real we're meant to be?
Or did we just take our largest bid?
Is there something here?
That's not make belief?
Or is it all a matter of our imagination
A story line we confuse for life?
Or is this actual fact, feeling and love.
That I am just unable to reciprocate.
Despite believing I should.
Is this the fairy-tale people hope for
The fairy-tale I misunderstood.
Donna Sep 2018
There once was a Fairy
Who lived in a magical world
Her sweet name was Mary
And she loved to be held

She loved to watch the stars
Twinkle brightly at night
Even though afar
They were a great sight

She watched the dusky sun
Rise early every morning
Whilst the birds would have fun
And humans were yawning

She skipped over lakes
Making the lake waters laugh
And fishes would wake
And give Mary a jacuzzi bath

She flew with Butterflies
And Dragonflies too
They ate custard pies
And egg foo foo

She made her own dress
From red autumn leaves
She was nicknamed The Best'
By all the lovely trees

She wore spaghetti hoops
In her long golden hair
And jumped through potholes loops
To explore natures flair

She'd slide down mountains
Rainbows as well
She brewed coffee in fountains
And rang a lunch time forest bell **
Fun fairy story x
Shofi Ahmed Mar 2017
Once, the summer sun will rise in London
Like the half of the Ge meets the other half.
Like a magic by the Lamp of Aladdin
The love flame hidden in the chest lits out!

Like a blooming rose in a glowing beam of light,
Like a smiling face speaks a gentle word,
Like a beautiful sunrise colour in the first light!

The summer in London will pop and sizzle
We will see a threshold in our land.
The rose for a while is tucked away
Off the winter and is given to the sun
Winter is not forever spring is on the corner
Come back in the sun with the early bird
Before Cinderella takes on the primrose path.

Keeping an eye on a thriller is in the winter’s field
Oozy ozone misty land gets a gingerly seasoning
What on earth will it strike, will it dish out?
Ah, the sun will pop out like a river breeze.

Like a southern song singing on a dream scene.
a smooth fairy dance facing the Moon
a thrill of exposing Stonehenge once and for all
a melodious raindrop in the serene pond
a butterfly dance on the rose
a turned on tall tale of the blue peacock
Like a pure belief in heaven without a pinch of salt!
This is a poem from my book Zero and One available on Amazon.
Kathryn Rose Mar 2018
Don't you dare speak those words.

You know exactly what they will do,
to you,
and to him.

There will be no more
you and him.

Like the peach blossoms
broken from the delicate, young branches,
the verbal hail storm,
the weight of the ice,
will knock him to the frozen ground.

Unsure how much affection he can return,
of how his own whirling thoughts fit with yours.
Your tale, far from fairy, will end.

Your open heart will shrivel,
like the salty sardines you left on the wooden picnic table
in the burning sun.

You will regret your thoughts and
you will regret your feelings,
but know, sadly, there was nothing left to do,
but leave too soon.
September Roses Jun 2018
Go asphyxiate yourself

On your dilusional thought of love
One day you'll find the one

And all your problems will dissolve

Your happily ever after

The true perfect match
that you cant spend a waking hour without dreaming of how much they mean to you

Grow old with
Every second of your life as long as you both shall live

Scrap book with and share vows of love

Your fairy tail ending with your Cinderalla and Prince Charming

Search for the eternal solution to loneliness

Your soulmate
     Your other half

True love will set you free

Is that right?

Go **** yourself
Kenya83 Feb 2017
You barged right in with not a care in the world
Of how deeply I'd fall and hit the ground
I knew I'd fell, for I hurt inside
But I could still be falling, there's no end in sight
Like Alice in a wonderland nothing seems quite right
Still I drink your potion readily and prepare to hold on tight
I catch you in my dream hoping you'll stay the entire night
My subconscious has a knowing, I'll be alone by morning light
Every time I get back up and dust myself down
You just steamroll right back through me, knocking me out
My palms left sweaty my mouth left dry
As I wonder if my feelings can lie
For here things aren't what they always appear
The pain of unknowing is my only fear
So, for now, your seas have calmed
And your storm has settled down
Left me cold and windswept
With droplets on my brow
I'll do what I must to do for now
For when night time falls again
I'll be back in my beautiful nightmare
Where you think of me now and then
Deb Jones Sep 2017
The moon floats over the meadow
Chasing the shadows of twilight back to their mossy hallows

The silvery flush of nightfall
Shimmers in the air

When the curtain between
The seen and the unseen world
Is nothing more than a gauzy veil

Then the fairy folk emerge
From beneath their leafy stalks

And caper around the meadow
Where no mortal walks
I was hiking with some friends and came across a small clearing just as it was getting dark. And I thought if fairies were real they would live there.
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