Inkpen Poetry Day: Here Runneth the Path of Fairy Feet

You know, I don't think I ever posted the poem that won a contest over at Perfectly Sensible Nonsense blog. :) The theme was something fairy-tale-ish, and my imagination took flight. :) I have always loved the hauntingly beautiful rhythm and rhyme of Tolkein's poetry, and I think something of that sort found its way into my poem.

It was inspired by the fact that I do not believe in fairies...but there are those times of day...those trysts with the gloaming

when I can almost believe in something of the sort.

Do you know the feeling? Anyway, enjoy the poem. Oh yes, and I wanted to announce that I am choosing days of the 15-day challenge to do because some of them don't really have anything to do with writing. (Like today's question about a bucket-list.) I do believe, Carrie, that the over-flowing treasure-chest you mentioned in the comment could be remedied by less frequent posts? (Everyday might be a little much for some people.) Let me know! Perhaps you would all rather this writer do less writing about writing and focus on more writing? :P I think my sentence structure needs help, if that last one was any example. Also, I wanted to urgently remind you of the Merry Auld England Writing Challenge going on right now! I've been working on the prizes, and they are going to be pretty great! I'll try to announce them soon, but I must have entries to have winners, you know. :) Anyway, I have drabbled on long enough and you need a refresher. Please, enjoy the poem below, with my compliments.

"Here Runneth the Path of Fairy Feet"

by Rachel Heffington

Where childhood fancy and twilight meet

Here runneth the path of fairy-feet;

On shadowed road and misty bend

Here coldsome facts of "real life" end,

And the simplest thing on earth would be

To find a dryad 'neath her tree.

She'd comb her locks like shimm'ring ferns

In that hour where the daylight turns.

And you'd never stop to blink your eyes

and say, (Because you're oh, so wise)

"Dryads aren't real--they're quite a myth"

If once you'd been in comp'ny with

A creature like her--lissom fair

With willowy limbs and leafy hair.

Where childhood fancy and twilight meet

Here runneth the path of fairy-feet.

In dusking woods at evenlong

You'll chance to hear an Elven song.

Like beads of dew on honeyed string

The notes, elusive, dip and sing.

And lamps we now call fire-flies

Can one more dazzle in our eyes.

Then we shall learn, as children do,

the things we thought we surely knew.

Fair beings that we'd long forgot

May weave with us a dreamy knot

Content, within this half-light time

To feed us with their storied rhyme.

Where childhood fancy and twilight meet

Here runneth the path of fairy feet

And those who spent the day in bed

Now tip-toe with their soft wings spread

And dance within the brilliant sheen

of moonlight and the summer's green.

The grown-up cares of life must fade

When pondered in that purple glade

Once more we change to half a child

Perfumed with scent of roses wild

And honeysuckle like a crown

That we'd been used to crushing down

Until twilight and fancy met

To tread with us this minuet.