The magic of poetry

I adore fairy tales, folklore, fantasy...That is why today's prompt is especially exciting. We are to write a poem in which mysterious and magical things occur. I can't help but employ a little old-fashioned language...and perhaps a bit of humour too.

Outside her window

stood a tree;

the tallest tree

that e'er could be

Upon one night,

there shone a glow

upon a branch

Nay high nor low

To her window

was she beckoned;

the light - a fairy

she did reckon

And so out of window

clambered she quickly,

the footing - 

it was rather tricky

But soon she did 

hold out her hand,

upon which the fairy folk

could stand

The winged whispered

in her ear 

all that little girls

should hear

It took all night,

but by dawn,

the secrets

of girls' lives were drawn

Now that she's grown,

ask her this:

What is the secret

to our bliss?

She'll only smile 

if you're a man.

For tell you?

Only fairies can.

All lies...

I have yet again much on which to catch-up. The last few days I felt hopelessly uninspired and lacked the energy with which to find any inspiration, despite several NaPoWriMo prompts. Today, I simply must write something.

A prompt is to write a ten-line poem in which each line is a lie. I think my poem makes use of sustained metaphor more than anything. The ending is also a bit anticlimactic, forced even, in my opinion. Either way, here are my efforts...

 

Why flowers bloom

 

The earth is awoken with the sound of weeping -

Fairy tears water the earth to feed it,

To uncurl tendril arms

Which embrace the saddened earth child

 

Delicate petals unfold to comfort

Lonely, broken hearts of tiny beings

In which children don't believe

 

Flower heads rock sleepy heads

To dream of a land where sunshine smiles

 

The earth blooms to bring fairies hope.

 

Andrea Vermaak