So I will build my altar in the fields,
And the blue sky my fretted dome shall be,
And the sweet fragrance that the wild flowers yields,
Shall be the incense I will yield thee.
~*~*S.T.Coleridge*~*~
I dedicate this page to two dear friends of mine... Egeria & Yeata
I never quite saw fairy folk
A dancing in the glade,
Where, just beyond the hollow oak,
Their broad green rings are laid;
But, while behind that oak I hid,
One day I very nearly did!
I never quite saw mermaids rise
Above the twilight sea,
When sands, left wet,'neath sunset skies,
Are blushing rosily;
But - all alone, those rocks amid-
One day I very nearly did.
I never quite saw Goblin Grim,
Who haunts our lumber room,
And pops his head above the rim
Of that oak chest's deep gloom;
But once - when Mother raised the lid,
I very, very nearly did!
~~~Queenie Scott Harper~~~
For Good Luck
Little Kings and Queens of May,
If you want to be,
Every one of you, very good,
In this beautiful, beautiful wood,
Where the little birds' heads get so turned with delight
That some of them sing all night:
Whatever you pluck,
Leave some for good luck!
Picked from the stalk or pulled by the root,
From overhead or under foot,
Water-wonders of pond or brook-
Wherever you look,
And whatever you find,
Leave something behind:
Some for the Naiads,
Some for the Dryads,
And a bit for the Nixies and Pixies!
~~~Juliana Horatia Ewing~~~
The Fairies Have Never A Penny To Spend
The fairies have never a penny to spend,
They haven't a thing put by;
But theirs is the dower of bird and of flower,
And theirs are the earth and the sky.
And though you should live in a palace of gold
Or sleep in a dried-up ditch,
You could never be poor as the fairies are,
And never as rich.
Since ever and ever the world began
They have danced like a ribbon of flame,
They have sung their song throught the centuries long,
And yet it is never the same.
And though you be foolish or though you be wise,
With hair of silver or gold,
You could never be young as the fairies are,
And never as old.
***Rose Fyleman***
The Fairies
There are fairies at the bottom of our garden!
It's not so very, very far away;
You pass the gardener's shed and you just keep straight ahead-
I do so hope they've really come to stay.
There's a little wood, with moss in it and beetles,
And a little stream that quietly runs through;
You wouldn't think they'd dare to come merrymaking there-
Well, they do.
There are fairies at the bottom of our garden!
They often have a dance on summer nights;
The butterflies and bees make a lovely little breeze,
And the rabbits stand about and hold the lights.
Did you know that they could sit upon the moonbeams
And pick a little star to make a fan,
And dance away up there in the middle of the air?
Well, they can.
The Pointed People
I don't know who they are,
But when it's shadow time
In woods where the trees crowd close,
With bristly branches crossed,
From their secret hiding places
I have seen the Pointed People
Gliding through brush and bracken.
Maybe a peaked cap
Pricking out through the leaves,
Or a tiny pointed ear
Up-cocked, all brown and furry,
From ferns and berry brambles,
Or a pointed hoof's sharp print
Deep in the tufted moss
And once a pointed face
That peered between the cedars,
Blinking bright eyes at me
And shaking with silent laughter.
~Rachel Field~
March Fairies
Fast upon the heels of winter
Comes a fairy band
Holding high its star-tipped torches,
Guiding Spring
throughout the land.
See them light the daffodils-
Touched with flame they glow;
Building fires in the crocus
While the March winds blow.
See them find the violets
Hiding here and there;
See them ride
the srpingtime breezes
Blowing everywhere.
See them wake the sweet arbutus
From her winter nap;
See them tie each pussy willow's
Furry little cap.
Never fairies half so busy
As when March is here
Planning for the world's new beauty
And its springtime cheer.
~*~by: Marion Doyle~*~
Pixie Gardeners
In the meadows in the mountains,
Where forest streams are flowing,
The pixie gardeners do their work-
They keep plants green and growing.
The pixies are small people
Who help all gardens grow,
Who rake the grass and tend the plants
In ways most folks don't know.
They fluff up pussy willows
And keep the gardens neat.
They polish all the tulips,
Smooth the grass beneath their feet.
They sprinkle leaves with dewdrops
That glisten. When the sun
Floods the field with warming light,
They vanish, one by one.
Do you want to go to Pixieland?
That's not as hard as it may seem:
Just close your eyes and go to sleep-
And drift there in a dream.
by: *Noemi Gilbert*
November 11th, 1998.. the day I lost my very dear friend.. Yeata. I'm so sad to say that Yeata has passed away, I will never forget him, and will miss him terribly. =*o(
