Come sit with me, you children,
in a circle round the fire;
let me tell you all a story
while the pine log flames get higher;
I first heard this here story
when I was young like you,
sitting around a fire like this
and my grandpa told it true.
These young folks from the city
used to come here every Fall,
taking pictures everywhere,
till one year, as I recall;
they went to see the haystacks
where the moon shines on the fence,
and to see the country scarecrows,
and nobody s seen em since.
There was this farmer, Mr. Brown,
who laughed at tales like this;
one Halloween he left his home
After giving his gal a kiss;
he said he left his bestest hat,
the one with the widest brim ,
out in the field – well, they found his hat
but they ain’t yet found him.
The Rawlins Twins, they was a pair
if mischief was to be had;
they liked to joke – most every folk
said that they was bad.
One Autumn evening they went out
to steal their neighbor s corn.
They ain’t come back; it s just as though
them two was never born.
On Halloween some scarecrows live
just for the night of fear,
but if they get your soul, my child,
they ll live for one whole year.
So if you go into the fields,
make sure you don t arrive
on October thirty-first,
when the scarecrows come alive
Late summer the bay at Southampton
Glows blue like the lupines in spring
Gone are the currants and redbuds
In russet and gold the plants ring
Amidst this Pacific profusion
The Pickleweed clan builds its house
The sparrow and yellowthroat warbler
Along with the tiniest mouse
It’s named for the salt marsh harvest
The stealthy mouse hides during day
Unseen by coyote or shorebird
Bursts forth with the moonlight’s first ray
And lo, when the moon’s at its brightest
The Pickleweed pixies appear
The little brown mouse is their playmate
The pixies consider it dear
When dawn spills over the wetlands
In pink-petaled spring or in fall
They perk their ears while the mouse disappears
And as sentinels they stretch tall
All pixies and fey folk enchanted
Are wise to the wild’s cunning spin
But they warn to the hawk, snake, and red fox
Salt marsh harvest mouse is our kin!
Stranger, who art thou passing here
tonight? Hast thou no fear?
Come not to graveyards in the night
when the half-moon, pale and dim, gives light;
The witching moon tis called, or horned,
once sacred to the Druids, adorned
in white, who called with darkest spell
fearsome demons out of hell,
and some of these are living yet!
In bone-yards like this they re met
Hark – hear ye that crunch of tooth
and bone? They feast at night, in truth,
on corpses and sometimes fools
like you who come to see the ghouls.
Too bad my words ye proudly scorned
For surely ye were duly warned.
Nay, stop! Tis too late to run
from ghouls, see? For I am one!
Journey far beneath the faery village
discover the kaleidoscope of magic wonders
My beautiful cream coral reefs soul filled with eternal love
Embrace my kiss within our stain-glass montage,’tis our dream home
I am your dream, gems of the souls sea
Swirling opaque dolphins love, I seek thee
Frosted stylized waves of ecstasy, ’tis me
We are suspended in time, hanging in the chamber walls
Kiss my lips as we will sparkle the heaven new cascading rain
Treasure of mine, I found a love so sweet
Flow with me to the porcelain angel’s light
Heirloom time shall part the moonlight doors
My holiday Faery
Your colors of twilight, opaque apricot blues
Peace wraps in your inner quilt of forever love
Among the priceless gifts I have to give to you
This holiday season is my keepsake, my Amethyst
As cherished the soft heart you share each day
Always there to help and guide me
Inspire as my winged fairy of love
Always and forever butterflies above
As the cherished Light of mine, somewhere in time
Hearts joined forever in bond, ’tis my soul you find
Gentle blessings caressed in sands of lapis time, come my love
Ebbing in each twilight I carry your green eyes to mine
If time could allow to stay as we are
To find that glazing bloom the stars
I shall be the lady of your dreams
Forever as the light of your hope shall stream
Theo ‘The Fairy Poet’ sings the praises of Spoutwood 2010
The Connection, or Finding Fae at Spoutwood Farm…
being the journeys and discoveries of an American youth into
faerieland and realms beyonde.
——-
On an April afternoon when rain spilled in the street
I settled in the book café and took a lonely seat
With coffee and free magazines, I’d beat the New York gloom
And think of sun-drenched canyons where cactus flowers bloom.
In the mood for pleasant fare to brighten up the day
A magazine peculiar, to my table found its way
Funky girls, Medieval Babes kept me charmed, and then
I came across an article: “In Search of Faery Men.”
Felicity lamented the lack of presence male
Who proudly would come out as Fae, not garbed by fashion stale
Has masculine expression lost its ancient fire?
Are men just too distracted by games that don’t inspire?
It became most clear to me this faery maid was right
Felicity and Oliver were seeing different light
Her heartfelt message sounded like the song of playful bird
I took my leave and walked the streets, and this is what I heard…
With greenman’s courage, pixies’ play, and graced with notes of Pan
Come woodland sprites and elves and trolls to reunite with Man
Reclaim your spirituality, in nature find your place
Remember myth and history and Faerieland embrace!
Bring your men to festivals, join people of the Sidhe
Where they might find in themselves a masculinity
That frees male spirits, hardened minds, unfetters captured souls
Better times await you when you take up mythic roles.
A rhyming poet, just a year, I heard the gracious call
I vowed that I would raise the bar, give Faerieland my all
Fight negative emotions that could obstruct my way
Discard the city’s pressures and find my inner-Fae.
At very least she promised, I’d have a super time
With honest, calm intention, I might find the sublime
I made up my mind with sound resolve, for this could do no harm
Took her advice and made my plans to go to Spoutwood Farm.
In flowered shirt and feathered hat and glitter in my beard
I entered gates to wonderland, feeling scared and weird
Soon lost my inhibitions and found my inner boy
Who longed for some adventure and yearned to feel some joy.
My eyes beheld such visions rare and stunning winged-maids
River folk, woodland elves, greenmen of various shades
A bright blue faerie bugler blew a hearty sound
In a land that time forgot, where vivid hues abound.
Children’s laughter filled the air to melt a cautious heart
I took my tea with little folk, a delightful way to start
With Posie Fae and company, we declared our pride
That we were friends of faeries and Nature was our guide.
Sweet Pea faerie told the tale of KUBIANDO way
She christened brand new faeries and taught us how to say
I believe in faeries, I believe in me, I know who I am, and I love the way we be,
Celebrating life, in global harmony, I believe in faeries and I believe in me!
Linda Biggs, the Rainbow Maid, defiant faerie-proud
Gave advice and lessons to stand out in faerie-crowd
While gaining proper confidence and learning faerie good
She reminded us to do our part, support our neighborhood.
In my faerie classrooms, as a fledgling in a nest
I became enchanted, progressing in my quest
Learning from the landscape and finding local lore
Ari Berk suggested would present a sacred door.
To understanding myth and a deeper sense of being
Conversing with our ancestors in an act of seeing
Our stories started long before the hours of our birth
Exploring ancient wisdom brings us closer to the Earth.
From Maypole Court to Frodo Hill and places in between
Finer artisans and craftsmen I think I’ve never seen
Leather, jewelry, woolen goods for faeries to adorn
Their bodies, minds, and spirits where faerie style is born.
Drummers, strings, and bagpipes to make young pagans dance
On stages set throughout the realm, their spirits to enhance
A gently plucked fantasia from the harp of Lady Greene
Soprano voice for faerie song, most sweet and so serene.
A gentle shaman told me, to see through the veil I’d need
An open heart, with softer eyes, and a loving creed
Give thanks to every season, sing the glory of the May
And celebrate existence on every given day.
I felt the blessings and the gifts offered by this Wood
My feelings swelled and lasted as Felicity said they could
I found a path to better days and had tremendous fun
To the city I returned, but felt not all was won.
For faerie is a journey involving play and work
Wisdom calls for knowledge, so from study never shirk
I will continue on this trail, release the ties that bind
Join my brothers and my sisters and be of faerie kind!
Mother Nature I will serve and spread my faerie wings
And in my fashion I will find how best my tenor sings
In heated New York city streets, through the summer’s haze
I’ll seek out the faerie realm and find where faerie plays.
Sail on waters
Deep and pure,
While winds wander
Through silvery snare,
Pale, nymphs calling
In the night,
Shut eyes to shadows,
Burnish delight,
Shut ears to shouting,
Shut heart to hurt,
Each door closing,
Open wide,
Hear the voices,
Taste the tart,
Pierce the heavens,
Hesperides’ Chart,
Courses kernels,
Seeds remain,
Golden Apple
Drops again.
‘Tis a place in time wherein
Faerie hills abound,
Where from winter s darkest corners
Springs forth newness all around.
Once Springtide’s charm
‘Tis duly cast,
She brings with the faerie hills
And there appear
In transparent form
Dancers small upon
The grassy knoll.
And these dancers small,
Their own music
With them bring,
A band of two
Or perhaps three,
One in the shadows
With a drummer s beat.
So light of foot
The dancers small
That each step
Touches not the earth,
But just the brush of air
Disturbs the soil beneath
By the breeze there attached.
We know not
From whence they come
Nor where their future takes,
For no evidence of their passing
Do they leave behind,
But in that misty realm
Beyond imagination s craft.
Stumble it!
Del.icio.us
