Little Girls Wish

Here is a great poem from Sawa Minori, a very talented artist and writer at Angelart Star. I hope you enjoy it! Happy Saturday! Brenda

Sawa Minori's avatarAngelart Star

☆☆☆ Fairy in the forest ☆☆☆

Yesterday, I secretly went to the city of human beings,
I was brought up only in my forest ever since I was born,

But the city was full with strange noise and pains of desire,
I returned to the forest immediately in fear,

My eyes opened wide,  My eyebrows seem to be sad,
The darkness of the big city surprised me,

If there are flowers and light,  I am happy,
Why did the people look like unhappy?

Our King says that a human being is such a creature,
Surely, I think my questions will be solved if I grow up,

I wish to see human beings living happily with freedom,
My blue eyes are standing wide open until the day comes.


☆☆☆ North country ☆☆☆

I help with the work of parents in cold every day,
And I pray to God with my beloved…

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Love Letter to Elm Bank

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You welcome me with sweeping views, Continue reading

Ruby Tuesday – 47

Another wonderful fairy tale micropoem, this time by On Dragonfly Wings. Enjoy and Happy Tuesday! Warmly, Brenda

becca givens's avatar"On Dragonfly Wings with Buttercup Tea"


Ruby Tuesday - 47Caladiums
Colorful parasols
Keeping fairies dry

 

Previous: Ruby Tuesdays

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© by rgb for “On Dragonfly Wings with Buttercup Tea”, 2011 – 2013


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Ruby Tuesday Too

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Garden Green

The kiss of the sun for pardon,
the song of the birds for mirth,
one is nearer God’s Heart in a garden
than anywhere else on earth.

Dorothy Frances Gurney

Lilies

Far up a hill in Edinburgh City are acres of garden.
I headed up one sunshiny day
escaping the din of castles, pubs and tourists.
Tranquility was far from me,
my mind too busy, too full of deadlines.

Continue reading

Follow Not The Swans

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The Night Swans

by Walter de la Mare

Tis silence on the enchanted lake,
And silence in the air serene,
Save for the beating of her heart,
The lovely-eyed Evangeline.

She sings across the waters clear
And dark with trees and stars between,
The notes her fairy godmother
Taught her, the child Evangeline.

As might the unrippled pool reply,
and answer far and sweet,
Three swans as white as mountain snow
Swim mantling to her feet.

And still upon the lake they stay,
Their eyes black stars in all their snow,
And softly, in the glassy pool,
Their feet beat darkly to and fro.

She rides upon her little boat,
Her swans swim through the starry sheen,
Rowing her into Fairyland –
The lovely-eyed Evangeline.

Tis silence on the enchanted lake
And silence in the air serene;
Voices shall call in vain again
On earth the child Evangeline.

Evangeline! Evangeline!
Upstairs, downstairs, all in vain.
Her room is dim; her flowers faded;
She answers not again.

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(Originally published 1902 by Longmans, Green, London, New York.)

To All in Pain Everywhere and Those in Sympathy

So many people are in pain, deep in their quiet lives. So many of us know people we love who are in pain. This poem and these flowers from my walk are a trifle, a brief balm, that cannot cure but are given in the hope that pain can ease for a few moments. I will be taking off a week to rest and renew with my family, and in the meantime, I leave you my love and caring, especially to all the children who skin their knees, who bang their heads, who hear harsh words or who suffer even worse than that. Take care of our children everywhere, inside us and out.

Through the Looking Glass

by Lewis Carroll (1872)

Child of pure, unclouded brow
And dreaming eyes of wonder!
Though time be fleet and 
I and thou
Are half a life asunder,
Thy loving smile will surely hail
The love-gift of a fairy tale.

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Midsummer Stew

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“Come away, O human child!
To the waters and the wild,
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the world’s more full of weeping than you can understand.” – W.B. Yeats

Conla picked early sage in her garden. Her family traditionally made a lamb stew for their midsummer feast. Her mother, Bronwyn, was inside their house braising the lamb with spring onions and chives. Conla heard her neighbor’s voice, and turned to see him walking under their archway with its pink roses and purple clematis.

“I can’t find a thing! My jackets are missing their buttons. My trousers all have holes. My wallet and keys are missing again! Are you doing this to me?!” Conla’s neighbor in the white cottage next door was Seamus O’Flanagan. Their two houses were the only ones for miles in that wild part of County Wicklow. The American had retired and come to the old country to write and paint, in the county of his ancestors. His wispy white hair was standing up in the wind, and his cheeks were red with anger.

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Caught by a Witch, What’s a Poor Mouse to do? Make Spine Poetry!

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Super Zen Mouse,

Short, shy fellow,

Stranger in wildwood pond —

A summer spell —

Witch of blackbird pond, blue

Wolf feet, who

Force-swallowed a flea!

Inside Outside

Too Perfect Curse.

Click on the picture to see the spines larger and find the words (or letters) on the spines. Do you have poems laying around the house? You could go on a poetry treasure hunt like we did!

Copyright 2013 Brenda Davis Harsham

Thanks for the idea Aussie Bookworm! Happy Friday and thanks for reading!

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