The Searchers - John Bliven Morin2012©Hawaii USA
Bobby and his sister Mary
wanted so to see a fairy;
from babyhood their Mum retold
tales of the fairy-folk of old.
Finding such tales far from boring,
every chance, they went exploring
through the forest near their home,
these children would quite often roam.
Seeking under every leaf ,
searching to sustain belief;
turning over rocks with care,
to see if any fairy’s there.
Hedgehogs, rabbits, saw they clearly,
a passing fox sniffed at them queerly;
once they saw a full-grown hind,
but not one fairy could they find.
After a day of fruitless searching
tangled thickets, limping, lurching,
giving up were Bob and Mary;
thought they’d never find a fairy.
The day waned and darkness came,
and all the pathways looked the same;
lost, the children walked until
fatigued, they stopped upon a hill.
“I’m hungry, Bobby, and I’m scared,”
cried Mary and her brother cared;
he held her close while Mary wept,
until at last, the children slept.
The sunlight came and brought a breeze,
the songs of birds came from the trees;
the children’s stretching, yawning, sighs
accompanied the opening of their eyes.
They wiped them then in disbelief,
for there in every bowl and leaf,
honey, fruits, dewdrops and berries;
who could have left them but the fairies?
Sweet music came from somewhere near,
gone was their hunger, fatigue and fear;
they heard the hidden voices sing
and saw they’d slept in a fairy ring.
With the dawn, they knew the way,
homeward, happily they play;
relief for a worried Mum and Dad
who’d looked in vain for their lass and lad.
That night, tucked lovingly in her bed,
Mary, to her brother said,
“But Bobby, we never saw a fairy!”
“Hush, my little sister Mary,
“You saw their hilltop fairy ring,
you heard their many voices sing;
you ate and drank their kindness, wee one,
and now complain you didn’t see one?”
“I’m sorry, Bobby,” Mary pled,
I’ll never doubt again,” she said,
“we may grow old each passing year;
I’ll always know that they are here!”
Copyright (C) 2012 by John Bliven Morin