I got into my journals and copied down a few of my old poems. This is one of my oldest “keepers.” I wrote it for my friend who loved fairies. I must have been… thirteenish? …at the time, so excuse any clumsiness.
This was back when my brain was on 24/7 Lord of the Rings marathon setting. Can you tell? 😀
They flit through field and fen
They wantonly roll and rollick
Wings that are gossamer thin
They employ in their carefree frolick
A delicate build they bear
With faces exceedingly fair
They’re strong but lighter than air
With flowers in their hair.
They have an aire of peace,
Gaiety, innocence, love,
They do what their hearts please
Worrying they’re above.
They drink dewdrops in the morn
They suck sweet nectar from flowers
For laughter they were born
And to play away the hours.