Sunday, February 20, 2011

Poetry Train Monday - 183 - The Fairy Glen

This a poem previously posted here at A Piece of My Mind, during my first year of blogging in 2007.

It's an oldie but a goodie, in more ways than one. I wrote it in the late 70s when I was 13 years old, quite obviously mimicking a Victorian poetic form I'd been studying in school. I was more of a free verse poet from the get-go, so following this strict metre and rhyming scheme would have been a challenge for me - one I simply had to take up.

The Fairy Glen

As I was walking down the lane,
Streams of sunlight rare
Because the trees had formed a veil,
Shadowing the country trail,
My head empty of care,
My heart empty of pain,

I chanced to find among the grass
An old and tarnished ring.
I rubbed it clean and saw inscribed
Something written by one which'd imbibed
Too much of an intoxicating thing.
It didn't make sense to me; alas!

However, as I stood beneath
The ancient limbs of a giant oak,
There happened to me a curious thing.
I spoke the words on the little ring,
Its meaning quite clear as soon as I spoke.
Magic hung over me like a wreath,

Colors of red and purple and green
Twining around me in an eerie dance.
The tingling of bells greeted my ears,
Calming my wild and anxious fears.
I opened my eyes; in a single glance
I beheld a thing I'd ne'er before seen.

Brownies and fairies, pixies, too,
Stood in a ring around me, so;
Bewildered, I stared, my thoughts awhirl -
How could this happen to an ordin'ry girl?
I guess my thoughts my face did show -
A pixie, clad in shades of blue

Stepped forward, grinning from ear to ear.
Stretching out a friendly hand,
He welcomed me to the circle, thus;
Everyone made a royal fuss
As if I were something really grand.
I looked at the ring that had brought me here.

It shone with golden beauty bright.
Transfixed, I held it in my palm,
My eyes, from it, I could not tear.
A voice spoke from I knew not where.
It said, its tone so soft and calm,
"Home do you wish to return tonight?

Or would you rather stay among
Us fairy folk in this magic glen?"

I asked, "I cannot return again?
Can't I go home and visit when
I wish to?"
The pixie shook his head. "Then
It's home to stay that I do long."

The blue-clad pixie nodded slow,
His eyes understanding.
When night encased the fairy glen,
Closing day's petals upon the stem,
The pixies and fairies and brownies standing,
Uneven, row by row,

I took a last look and said my goodbyes,
Feeling my tears well up.
Through a misty haze which blurred everything,
I read the words on the magic ring.
Then I was doused in the color cup,
The tingling of bells and the small fireflies,

Made of the sparks that swirled to and fro,
Taking me from the fairy-ring there.
The colors disappeared, and in their place
The lane uncovered its friendly face.
If it weren't for the ring which I did wear,
That the fairies were real I couldn't know.

The ring again dirty, the sun still a-shine,
I didn't know even if I were real.
Home I went and found time had not passed.
Had I dreamt the bit of the fairy blast?
I only knew what was mine to feel:
My adventure, if true, had been one divine.

© Julia Smith, 1978

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Naquillity said...

magical, simply magical. you did well with the poetic form too. i loved it. hope all is well.

Nikita Banerjee said...

Quite a gifted poet you were back then! Amazing...reminds me of Snow White somehow!

P.S: Check out some of my wedding pics on the Bride to be Blog!

Michelle Helliwell said...

Julia - beautiful, amazing! I think that will be inspiring me in a future story for sure. You and I would have been bestest friends growing up, I can tell:) What an amazing kid you were - I suppose I can tell by who you are now.

Julia Smith said...

Naquillity - Thanks! Things are actually really good.

Nikita - Be right over.

Michelle - We can be bestest friends now. I'm good with that.

Akelamalu said...

Absolutely delightful poem Julia!

Michael Offutt said...

I love this poem. I wish I could steal it.

Travis Cody said...

I loved that! Did you do any editing, or is this the way you wrote it at 13? It's really marvelous.

I was able to locate the meter, but I was also able to read it in sentences so the story really stood out.

Julia Smith said...

Akelamalu - :-)

Michael - Flatterer.

Travis - It's the way I wrote it at 13. I fancied myself a writer then. I wrote poetry and 'novels' and even illustrated them.

Meanwhile, it's only now in my late 40's that I feel I've finally gotten the hang of this whole writing thing.