The Rose Fairy

11752631_1002173049816540_7039802928025135523_n
I wrote this when I was a little girl, and found it in a folder. I thought I would share it with you! I do love fairies!

The Rose Fairy
The soft morn’ dew settled on the grass,
Amid delighted laughs.
The sun rose in the sky above,
As the fairies had their bath.

Her face was  little as a sliver of zest,
Her rose-red hair did flow.
Her lips scarlet as a robin’s chest.
The petals in her little hand would fell wherever she’d go.

I stumbled across her clear one day,
Whilst strolling through your garden.
She squeaked with fright when she saw me,
I said, “I beg your pardon.”

She giggled, “My name’s Mary-Bell, but you can call me Mary.
This is my home, roses I own, for I am their own rose fairy.”

11750726_1002175056483006_8496839533829828143_n

The Fairy Playground.

Sigh, I am an adult. I like the sense that I am able to choose my behaviour, and be responsible as a grown up. I don’t like that I gasped dramatically upon entering my child’s room and seeing this. The Fairy Playcentre.
She heard me, and came running. She had taken down all of her precious trinkets, and arranged them on her desk, trailing down to the floor and beyond. I saw an hour’s work putting everything back. “Do you like it?” she smiled. “I did it for the fairies to come play in.” I nodded, and reprimanded myself for being a silly adult. We wrote a little note to the fairies, asking if they liked what she had done, and left the room. “They loved it!” she squealed upon her return. On the note-by way of reply-was a resounding yes! We constructed more of an area for the visiting fairies. I wondered when I had lost my sense of wonder, believing in order more than mystery, order rather than games. Once again, this precious little soul has taught me. P1080403