A poetic journey through my mind

Posts tagged “faerie

Kitten Little

kitten little, sometimes big,
walking through the streets alone,
puddle water, garbage cans,
sometimes an abandoned bone.
boxes set for mornings haul,
make shelter from the freezing rain,
kicks and stones and shouted words,
she stumbles past, ignores the pain.
born into an alley, grown,
no memories to give her place,
her only clue a collar, red,
that takes her into kitten-space.
in form, a scrawny alley-cat,
black and white with bright green eyes,
the colors meld in formless shapes,
to make the shadows her disguise.
in kitten shape she eats and sleeps,
then grows again at each sunrise,
when big, she stands a scrawny teen,
with ebon hair and emerald eyes.
tail that hangs so limply down,
and ears that hear a mouses cry,
invisible, intangible, but present,
real, and not insanitys’ sweet lie.
her hair so long and tangled falls,
across her fearful, tearful eyes,
hiding the skin so ivory white,
torn by hate in loves disguise.
skin that’s never felt soft hand,
a mothers touch, a fathers love,
never felt a sweet caress,
just icy air and a strangers shove.
where will she end, this kitten, lost,
who is there to take her in,
how did she come, and at what cost,
what secrets lie beneath her skin?


By the River

I walked along the river bank through many an hour of dreaming,
imagining the fairy world that lay beyond its seeming,
its overhangs were council halls, it seemed they rang with greetings,
as the seats of mangrove roots filled up at the fairyville town meeting.

Under bridges dark and drear, trows and boggans creeping,
tiptoe as you pass them by, we’ll not disturb their sleeping.

butterflies dance slow pavannes, above the rivers gleaming,
if you should chance to look away, they drop their insect seemings,
and shining bright, the fairies dance, with glowing wings aflutter,
but look again and all that’s left is the waters passing mutter.


Underhill

masquerade, play pretend,
down the hall and back again,
bow and spin, whirl and sway,
as the lights turn night to day,
colors swirling all together,
shades of mountains and of heather,
pastel tints of sky and grass,
and jewel bright, like leaded glass.
music lilts and skirls like water,
round noble lad and burghers daughter,
whispering of sweet romance,
until they whirl as in a trance,
the silken threads of magic wind,
whispering into each mind,
holding them in bondage sweet,
while outside night and morning meet,
the sun shines bright through windowpane,
and still they dance on, lord and dame,
masquerade, play pretend,
down the hall and back again,
spinning webs of color bright,
until the day turns into night,
round and round and round about,
beneath the shadow of a doubt,
beneath the moon, beneath the hill,
the stolen ones are dancing still.


Aside

Faerie Hill

underneath the faerie hill,
lovely fairies, dancing still,
can you see them where they hide?
do you dare to look inside?
careful all who wander near,
man of means or children dear,
for you may just disappear,
and with the fae folk ride!