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Rated: E · Poetry · Fantasy · #1216591
A poem about a flying fairy, written to pratice rhymes
The Fairy -


What a tireless, flightful thing
Accessorized with placid wing
Steady in their beating process;
The only key to sky’s access

And while she masters the air
She cockily casts away her hair
Then adopted by the breeze
Floating along with brilliant ease

And in this manner does she float
To the cold moon does she dote
Unlike the orb : missing mar and scar
She ostentatiously outshines every star

And acting as one she shoots to earth
Like an astounding angel-birth
Descending with flips and twirls
Faithfully follows the wind-swept curls

Like golden mares obedient
Yet assigned to one so arrogant
They lope along, the savvy team
Wading through black sky-stream

But if heaven were to be a sea
For winged creations to fly free
She would plunge into the depth
Lungs in taking every wet chilly breath

She is never without energy
Acrobatics performed whole-heartedly
And when the sun would rise to being
The horizon becomes her balance beam

Gaping chasm stretching out
Creating excited inaudible shout
A reply to the whistling song
Passing the frame which zooms along

On organic creations of mastery
Bold in their design of translucency
Wings of matchless speed and strength
And size, widened past arms length

Of before said frail silhouette
A contrast to cold space-depth
Flicking about and around
Oblivious to spreading cloud

A slow infestation
Complete obliteration
Of sky stage lights
And her delights

To an end comes her night
The beginning of ghastly fright
Grotesque virus of dark air
Sounding crackling screech and blare

Wings steady set and bear
Face pinched up to glare
An angered silent roar
Then forward does she soar

What once were dancing tricks
Of flying, flipping, circus kicks
Turn from a simple dance of passion
To enraged attacks of assassin

Towards her enemy she will go!
Her widened eyes wild and aglow!
Disgusted by foe’s acts of felony
Who ate the stars with gluttony

Reaching out to grab the mass
Through thin fingers did it pass
And from the stores the cloud does keep
It shrieks and flashes, then does weep

Success! Attacking the beast again
Hair and wings slicked with rain
Now entwined, swallowed in the fight
For a moment, she is the only light

But from the belly down below
The cloud’s interior begins to glow
Then it is suddenly split apart
Lightening licking through her heart

Her rain-spotted vision fades
Defeated by sickly yellow blades
The winged creature so very small
From her home then starts to fall

Figure cascading through the air
Above float tatters of broken hair
Burned black and ripped as if mourning
The horrid events that occurred this morning

With one last look at dark sky
From her lips escape unheard sigh
Viewing wings that used to fly
Destroyed and torn, to imply
Their brave, silent good bye
She never again could soar high
On which her very life did rely
And so, as if in grieved reply
The little fairy then did die.
© Copyright 2007 Gina Harvey (ish_car_ha_ba at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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