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Fairy Town (a Lullaby) Post by :thettunoo Category :Poems Author :Mary Carolyn Davies Date :October 2011 Read :3423

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Fairy Town (a Lullaby)

In Fairy Town, in Fairy Town,
Where Fairy folk go up and down,
Where Fairy children, wee and gay,
Frisk and romp in Fairy play,
Every day's a holiday!
And every night is sweeter still,
For when, behind the Fairy hill
The tiny Fairy sun goes down,
It's sleepy time in Fairy Town!

Sleepy time in Fairy Town!
Sleep, sleep--sleep--
While the stars of Fairy Town
Safe watch keep.
All the Fairy babies, so,
Off to Dreamland softly go--

In Fairy Town, in Fairy Town,
Each baby in a moonlight gown,
Lies and dreams the livelong night.
Fairy babies are so white,
White and pink and wee and bright!
Petals of a rose a-curl
Make a Fairy baby girl;
Autumn leaves, all dear and brown,
Make the boys of Fairy Town!

Sleepy time in Fairy Town!
Sleep, sleep--sleep--
While the stars of Fairy Town
Safe watch keep.
Like the Fairy babies, go
Off to Dreamland, softly, so--

(The end)
Mary Carolyn Davies's poem: Fairy Town (a Lullaby)

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Shut-ins Shut-ins

We're gittin' so we need againTo see the sproutin' seed again.We've been shut up all winter longWithin our narrow rooms;We're sort o' shriveled up an' dry--Ma's cranky-like an' quick to cry;We need the blue skies overhead,The garden with its blooms.I'm findin' fault with this an' that!I threw my bootjack at the catBecause he rubbed against my leg--I guess I'm all on edge;I'm fidgety an' fussy too,An' Ma finds fault with all I do;It seems we need to see againThe green upon the hedge.We've been shut up so long, it seemsWe've lost the glamour of our dreams.We've narrowed down as people willTill

Alone Alone

Strange thoughts come to the man alone; 'Tis then, if ever, he talks with God, And views himself as a single clodIn the soil of life where the souls are grown.'Tis then he questions the why and where, The start and end of his years and days, And what is blame and what is praise,And what is ugly and what is fair.When a man has drawn from the busy throng To the sweet retreat of the silent hours, Low voices whisper of higher powers.He catches the strain of some far-off song,And the sham fades out