FAIRY TALES

FAIRY TALES

The housings of my horse

Are embroidered with gold.

My skin is pure blue.

I walk through all forests,

Copper and silver and gold

And i am a story that cannot grow old.

My story is filled with all

Of the royals, prince and princesses,

Kings and queens;

Trolls and the fairies, enchanted

Castles of crystal and dream

And none of these creations will

Be what they seem.

My tasks they are endless.  They

Happen in threes, each one more

Complex, but accomplished with ease,

By magic and cunning, with fish,

Birds and beasts and magical fruits

And sweet candies and treats.

Stones more precious than

Jasper or Onyx.  Diamonds and

Opals and gems of great worth,

Seen always in dreaming then

Clouded by thunder.

The finest of cloth, silks brighter

Than sun and beautiful slippers

That fit only one and that one

Much more lovely than lovely could be

With witches and wizards turned into trees.

Such not are my stories when you

Have passed by.  They live in your

Childhood and are destined to die

Or hide from your grown self

Unless you can be, tempted by

Such things that might move

In your sleep and carry the

Fancies to caves where

They’re reaped by poets and traders

In rhyme and in magic who

Know what steals time.  It is

Through these stories joy

You will find.

Oh love them most well

Or the lights will wink out and you’ll 

Leave them behind

With much of the joy

Such great things can unwind.

There are tales to tell.

There are tales to tell.

Take all of their gifts

For they well keep you well.

Do not leave them behind.