Faerie

At last, the iceberg moves

 

1

There is a cinnamon smell to the air

A razor blade smell

Cutting through all others

Roses repose in their beds

And the unseen magnolia blossoms

Declare their presence.

 

Diving down into the

Funereal reaches of the night wind

We crossed into faerie with ease

Riding dandelion and marigold.

 

2

You turn in your sleep

Settling again into the mound of pillows

As I listen to the sounds of flowers

Unfolding, uneasy, unnoticed

But for me.

Your soft breathing tells tales

Of dreams.

Deep down

You know.

 

3

Hints of her identity,

The slightest brushing of small wings

And I am mad with the secret

The inability to tell.

Suspension of disbelief

I am mad with the secret

The voice of tiny wings.

 

Outside the drastic conditions of a life

Whose only attraction is escape from it

Whose only satisfaction is clear dread

After all the ancillary matters that crowd

Hints of fantasy.

I am made with the knowing.

 

4

Often the centre is dismissed for the margins

The mentor mind exchanged for the story teller.

I can take you there.

 

 

I go to a place that brings water to deserts

Imagines wildness where there is tame

Guarded by faerie

 

Here you can  look at me again

Admire my spontaneity

And remember there is more to life

 

5

You have mistaken my boredom for disease

My mind wishes to be outside the walls

To find the bridge where vows were made

Where promises were kept

 

I find the crescent moon a wonder

As Venus and Mars take their places in the sky

But vision is blocked by the lights of the city

Extinguishing the light that matters

Leaving the sky a dull gray.

 

Go back outside

The slide, the swing

Go and see

Remember the toy box.

 

 

Reviews

[Mysty Rayn]

Very emotional. So wonderfully written and presented. Thank you for sharing.

[Gabrielle]

I was in tears after reading this poem; it is so moving and it is very powerful. Your metaphors are intense. I feel this poet/poem is who I could relate to on so many levels. This reads like a song, the sorrow and despair and all the polarities. One minute you are in this fairyland, the next back to normal every day life. And the difference of it becomes blurred through this poem. So many thoughts ran through my head as I read your poem, so it is harder to comment when overwhelmed by the poem's richness.