fairy tale poem – Mary Grace Writing

Originally Written in 2009 while sending time in Bourbon Indiana on my Grandparents Farm. We enjoyed many walks down to the pond and dressing up in cattails and corn leaves sparked my imagination.

Her skirts are bound with borrowed twine,
Its folds of corn-leaf silk.
Braided reeds with clover, wheat,
Above a face as sweet as milk.

Her cheeks glow pink, her feet are bare.
Eyes a-twinkle in the light.
Heals they stain a healthy green
As they dance with all their might.

She is friends with the old elm tree;
Names the drying cornstalks.
Talks with people and things unseen…
But only till it’s six O’clock!

Then it’s off with her corn-leaf skirts,
Goodbye to pond and field.
For mother will be calling soon,
The table spread. It’s time to eat.

Bath with a story,
Sleep with sweet dreams.
Rest until tomorrow,
A day filled with many new things.

I found this poem from 2008 hiding in my files. It was written before I considered myself a writer, and before I ever dreamed of being a poet. I thought it would be fun to share it with all of you.

In fields of grey
and washed out rose,
Beneath a sky
in eternal repose,

Opposite a Rainbow,
its edges torn,
Beside a bramble
full of thorns,

While set against
a horizon, worn,
Laid across
a brook so forlorn,

Is a precious place
imprinted deep,
on wooden planking
where he sat to weep.

He watched
a little boat drift,
so far away
his last loving gift.

Carved from a branch
leaf for a sail,
it bobbed down stream
green foam on its tail.

The lady fair
he had dressed in moss,
her fragile wings
still held high aloft.

With her went his worlds
colour and life.
His soul skipped a beat
at this, his first strife.

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Mary Grace Writing

Tag: fairy tale poem

Miller Farm Fairy

Washed Out