No ratings.
This is a collection of poems told from fictional view points. They are not about me. |
I swore I saw a fairy, just sitting on the shelf, at least, with little wings, I don't think that she's an elf. Where did she come from? Why is she here? Wait, is that a cellphone that's she holding to her ear? Since when do fairies use modern technology? I thought that they were mystic and all...you know, mythology. Do you suppose she knows that I know that she's there? I haven't moved a muscle yet, I don't think that I dare. Maybe she thinks that I'm still watching Youtube on my phone, maybe she thinks I'm caught up in the zone. Ooh, she's moving! She's fluttered to the door. Do I just let her leave? I want...I want to see some more. I'd actually like to talk to her, if fairies can even talk. For all I know, they cluck or caw or tweet or chirrup or squawk. "Fairy," I whisper, soft and low, "Please wait," I beg, "Please don't go." The fairy turned and smiled at me, clearly not surprised. Apart from wings and pointy ears, she was like a person, just pint sized. "I must depart," she tinkled, in a voice high pitched and clear, "but if you like, I can come back. Would you like me to, my dear?" I nodded, enthusiastically, and agreed as quickly as I could, then the fairy disappeared, but hopefully not for good. I can't believe I saw a fairy, in my very own bedroom. And to think that she is coming back, at least, so I assume. Will it be today again, or maybe even next week? I realise it might be years yet, a prospect oh so bleak. But one day she'll be back, and I will call you here to join me. Then maybe you'll believe this tale, and what I saw, you too will see. Free verse with ABCB rhyme scheme. Written 12 September 2016. |