Mary the Lyrical Fairy

Mary the Lyrical fairy,
Could make words disappear,
She’d wave her magic wand at them,
And they’d fly out of here .

Woosh! there goes a word or two,
Hidden from our sight,
I wonder what that word could be?
Could we guess it right?

There, you see, one went just then!
Can you work it out?
These words keep disappearing,
Is there a thief about?

We just can’t lock the words all up,
We need them free to roam,
I wonder if she’ll stop it soon?
And leave those words alone.

Why oh why then Mary,
Why must you mess about?
She says “words can be so painful,
So I rub some of them out”.

The Fall 2 – The Rise

Being the continuing adventures of Leaf in “The Fall”

Leaf trembled in the icy blast,
Twisting wildly round,
The only leaf left on the tree,
The others, on the ground.

He’d lived though all four seasons,
But knew his time had come,
The wind would surely take him,
And compost he’d become.

Then howling wind leapt from the east,
And SNAP he felt it go,
Suddenly he’s floating,
Caught in wind and snow.

High he flies, the tiny leaf,
Spinning round and round
Swirling past a steeple,
And down across the ground.

Round and round the roundabout,
Then over a street light,
Like a crazy fairground ride,
That goes on through the night.

He swirled into a market square,
Then swooped beneath a gate
And stopped outside the smart back door
Of Church lane, number 8

“Look this one is perfect!”
Cried the giant looking down,
She picked him up, “this one is just,
The perfect shade of brown”.

So now, leaf shines there proudly,
In a front-door Christmas wreath,
All golden, and with glitter on,
And two big balls beneath.

The Sentinel

I sit beside the fire,
I think of all I’ve seen,
Of Kingdoms and of Dragons,
Adventures there have been,
But oh what a surprise to find,
That soon I’d leave them all behind,
To go upon my last
My final journey.

Across the misty mountains,
Beyond the Chalice seas,
Through lush enchanted valleys,
Filled with watching trees.
At last I reach the caverns,
On Midsummer’s Eve in June,
Here I sit whilst waiting
For the rising of the moon.

So as the moon begins to climb,
Revealed within the light,
An ancient tomb carved from the rock
Upon which stood a Knight.
This dusty, aged sentinel
Looks kindly on my face,
He nods and steps down from his plinth
And I take up his place.

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