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A Home-made Fairy Tale Post by :Jeremy_Burns Category :Poems Author :James Whitcomb Riley Date :February 2011 Read :3692

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A Home-made Fairy Tale

Bud, come here to your uncle a spell,
And I'll tell you something you mustn't tell--
For it's a secret and shore-'nuf true,
And maybe I oughtn't to tell it to you--!
But out in the garden, under the shade
Of the apple-trees, where we romped and played
Till the moon was up, and you thought I'd gone
Fast asleep--, That was all put on!
For I was a-watchin' something queer
Goin' on there in the grass, my dear--!
'Way down deep in it, there I see
A little dude-Fairy who winked at me,
And snapped his fingers, and laughed as low
And fine as the whine of a mus-kee-to!
I kept still-- watchin' him closer-- and
I noticed a little guitar in his hand,
Which he leant 'ginst a little dead bee-- and laid
His cigarette down on a clean grass-blade,
And then climbed up on the shell of a snail--
Carefully dusting his swallowtail--
And pulling up, by a waxed web-thread,
This little guitar, you remember. I said!
And there he trinkled and trilled a tune--,
"My Love, so Fair, Tans in the Moon!"
Till presently, out of the clover-top
He seemed to be singing to, came k'pop!
The purtiest, daintiest Fairy face
In all this world, or any place!
Then the little ser'nader waved his hand,
As much as to say, "We'll excuse you!" and
I heard, as I squinted my eyelids to,
A kiss like the drip of a drop of dew!

(The end)
James Whitcomb Riley's poem: Home-Made Fairy Tale

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The South Wind And The Sun The South Wind And The Sun

The South Wind And The Sun
O The South Wind and the Sun!How each loved the other oneFull of fancy--- full folly--Full of jollity and fun!How they romped and ran about,Like two boys when school is out,With glowing face, and lisping lip,Low laugh, and lifted shout!And the South Wind-- he was dressedWith a ribbon round his breastThat floated, flapped and flutteredIn a riotous unrest,And a drapery of mistFrom the shoulder and the wristFlowing backward with the motionOf the waving hand he kissed.And the Sun had on a crownWrought of gilded thistle-down,And a scarf of velvet vapor,And a ravelled-rainbow gown;And his tinsel-tangled hair,Tossed and lost upon the air,Was

Anselmo Anselmo

Years did I vainly seek the good Lord's grace--,Prayed, fasted, and did penance dire and dread;Did kneel, with bleeding knees and rainy face,And mouth the dust, with ashes on my head;Yea, still with knotted scourge the flesh I flayed,Rent fresh the wounds, and moaned and shrieked insanely;And froth oozed with the pleadings that I made,And yet I prayed on vainly, vainly, vainly!A time, from out of swoon I lifted eye,To find a wretched outcast, gray and grim,Bathing my brow, with many a pitying sigh,And I did pray God's grace might rest on him--.Then, lo! A gentle voice fell on mine ears--"Thou