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The Underliving
Priscilla Hernandez

You are in the Fairy & Fantasy Poems Section

The Fairy that could not fly. - Joannda Riche2009©Northampton UK

I lost my wings one sad bleak day,
The prince bull frog pulled them away,
I wept a million crystal tears,
And sat alone for many years.

My Fairy friends would flit by,
And shake their heads and gently sign,
And there amongst the wooded ground,
My heart did break, and did not pound.

I often looked towards the stars,
And wished that I could fly that far,
My only settler below the trees,
They offered me their fallen leaves.

Old Jack Frost would often nip me,
Upon the ground undoable to flee,
The woodland creatures scuttled by,
And asked me "why I could not fly?"

The prince bull frog passed by one day,
"why had he taken my wings away?"
He looked at me with a scornful frown,
He'd given them to another in exchange for a crown.

Now the woodland creatures and trees so tall,
Were very wise and they did call,
They told me I should not despair,
For they knew of a magic that was everywhere.

And so with their guidance, I began to learn,
The sacred magic with in the fern,
And seedlings I did sow and tender,
Until they grew out, flowers in splendour.

The prince bull frog caught sight one day,
of all the flowers and he did say,
"for all the flowers I will give,
This golden crown upon my head"

I turned to him with an arrogant eye,
"you leave the flowers, from here be gone,
You took my wings so long ago,
You are no friend, you are my foe"

The prince bull frog was angered by this,
For his golden crown, who could resist,
And he left that day and went on his way,
And sat all alone in his pond.

The creatures and trees were all very pleased,
That I had not plucked the flowers.
They gathered me in and begun to spin,
The most beautiful pair of wings.

Form petals and leaves, and silk golden thread,
A magnificent crown they made for my head.
And there on the ground, my heart it did pound,
And I flew away with the wind.

Now the prince bull frog, sat in his pond and got old,
And when he was dead the crown from his head,
Sank deep beneath the lily fold.
And there it remained not to be seen,
While the flowers bloomed gold and gleamed.

Jo Riche2009©Northampton UKbull-frog

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