The Pretty Fairy

The sun is setting on the western hill,
the sky is all aglow,
a little fairy comes out to play,
she is pretty from head to toe.

A cobweb makes her silvery wings,
five leaves do make a skirt.
For a hat she wears an acorn cup,
she helps all people hurt.

Next morning, when the sun does rise,
she'll wash herself in dew,
then go to bed and curl up tight
and dream of dreams come true.

Joan Deakin - aged 8-ish


The world's helper

We watched the western sky
as it moved through golden, russett, crimson,
until the whispers of darkness
sent a frisson up our spines.

This was surely when those
unknown, imagined beings set out into
the half-light, half-truth, half-belief
time of fairy hours.

I swear I saw her - all
alone, innocently resplendent in her
cobweb wings, acorn-cup hat, leaf skirt,
an image of compassion.

Her half-fabricated figure
gave us faith that there are those who still can
put all selfishness aside and secretly
give themselves to the world.