Tag Archives: fairy tales

The Lost Way

The Lost Way

The way is lost.
If you go your quest will fail.
Heed what they say
in song and tale.

Ride a horse over the moors
in sun and rain.
You will not find the castle on the peak
above the plain.

Hidden harbour
shelters your boat
but there are no signs
on the hills of sheep and goat.

Ride out like Jack Rowland on your horse,
ride and ride till you are weak and pale.
Be content to glimpse what you seek
when your spirit is held by song and tale.

The ocean on the other side of the hill,
you can hear it if you are still.
The enchanter always was remote,
his words a spell no human wrote.

The tower on the tor
holds wood and water power,
but it is forgot
what reed will bind which flower.

Wind blows through fields of heather and whin.
The track is hid to find Tam Lin.

The way is lost.
You cannot go there.
O but it was wild
and it was fair.

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Round the Bean Stalk

Round the Bean Stalk

A man may wake
to watch his garden grow a bean stalk,
up and up, through clouds,
and think, such a giant plant
will make the neighbours talk,
better chop it down at the root
with an axe from the shed,
looks too big to eat with knife and fork,
and less dangerous dead.

Another man might admire it from his deck chair,
and water it in a drought.
and invite experts round to tell him
what it was about.
Yet another man might be like Jack
met in a fairy tale,
and climb up it through the clouds,
until his skin grew pale,
and may return with reports
of what he had seen,
or keep on climbing,
beyond the blue and green,
become the cause of wandering talk,
winding round the bean stalk

The Enigma of Worlds

The Enigma of Worlds

Only a crossword I could not complete,
only a puzzle I could not solve,
only a carousel I am too old to ride on,
I can only stand and watch it revolve.

Sometimes I wonder if I had a better brain
would I have the wit
to work out the enigma of worlds,
see where all the fragments fit,
but I fear that I may not cope
with what I may gain.

And what was that from the corner of my eye,
I saw as I felt winter passing by?
A little man who was not human
in a white smock, boots and cap,
like someone I saw before I fell into a nap.

It was proof you can enter Faerie in the street,
not just where woods and mountains meet.
In that land old men with beards are revered.
It may sound weird,
it is because they may or may not be a wizard,
some of them holy and favoured,
others fallen, to be feared.

Mother, take me to see the hens,
back to when I scrawled with pencils,
doodled with pens.
Leave me there, alone,
and I will make it back again
to whoever I am now.
The long forgotten fairy tale
in my mind will never pale,
its seas await for me to sail,
its lanes lead to who knows where?
The wise owls still live in the tower.
The sound of the sea in a shell,
the bell that rings in the well
will lead me there.

How can you upset an apple cart?
It has no feelings for a start.
I know that saying,
I am only playing.
Best to smile before we part.