Fairy Spring

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Fairy Spring

Coraline the nymph bathed in her secret spring,

A secret spot she picked out amidst the trees

She sang as she washed, a voice so pure and dear,

Not worrying much to be seen by mortal eyes,

Content in her haven amongst the hanging weeds

This lovely maiden of the forest.

 

Along came a traveler through the forest,

By the name of Ian, and stopped not far from the spring.

When what did he see amongst the weeds,

But a purple rose nestled between two trees.

It’s sheer beauty brought a tear to his eyes

That he plucked it from the ground, and kissed it dear.

 

From behind the willows, a voice so dear

Called out “Who’s there, in my part of the forest?

Pray, do not leave. Let me see thee with mine eyes.”

Ian followed the voice to the crystal spring

Which cast a radiant blue over the trees,

And drew apart the hanging willow weeds.

 

And what did he see behind those willow weeds

But a beautiful faerie maiden, true and dear.

Her skin silky smooth, this lady of the trees,

Her hair twined with vines from the forest.

Her plexiglass wings reflecting the spring

The sunlight casting a shine into her glass-blue eyes

 

“Such beauty I’ve never seen with mine eyes!

Thou art a daughter of Titania, woman of the weeds!

Happy am I to have found this sacred spring!

Thou art a hundred times more lovely and dear

Than any gold that could be found in this forest!

Let me gaze upon you more, maiden of the trees!”

 

Coraline blushed. “Thou hasted labored through the trees

To find me, hasn’t thou? And what do I see with mine eyes?

Did you find that flower in the forest?

Thou hast brought me my precious nymph weeds.

Thou art my true love, my undying dear!

Join me, and live forever with me in my spring!”

 

And so did she lead him past through the trees, to her house of weeds,

In her enchanted eyes was he her love so dear,

That she became his bride of the forest, his maiden of the spring.

 

 

 

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Poetry is not the expression of personality but an escape from personality.

T. S. Eliot (1888-1965) American-English poet and playwright.

spectrevampire’s Poems (9)

Title Comments
Title Comments
You and Me 0
It Will Be Summer Soon 0
Fairy Spring 0
Dead Idols 0
Bird of Prey 0
Envy 0
Derail 0
Afternoon with Mrs. Sanders 0
Bride from the Spring 0