Once Upon A Time

Pixabay

There was a long time ago,

In days of old, as you may know –

Fairies, and all kind of folk fey –

That we seldom see around us today.

Among these was – Princess Jacaranda – Royal,

Whose mother Queen Pandorea – did tend to spoil.

She was so accustomed to getting her way

That in the Blackberry Patch Kingdom –

She refused to stay.

So she did wander so far from home

That she found herself lost and quite alone.

Thus isolated in an unfamiliar land

With no one to guide her or give her a hand  –

She succumbed to her fears

And she fell into tears –

Ultraviolet streaks down her face.

And if you go near –

Even today – you will hear –

Her sobs as you pass by the place.

 

Padre

 

Paint Chip Poetry Prompt #31:

Once Upon a Time –  “you must use all four of the paint chip words, which are royal, jacaranda, ultraviolet, and blackberry. You can either include the angel card word or just allude to the concept of obedience (or disobedience, if you prefer).

Brownie Kinbump

 

Pixabay

Brownie Kinbump was bored.

“There is nothing to do,” Brownie Kinbump said.

Brownie Kinbump saw a family.  The family had a mum, a boy, and a girl.

The family was playing.  The family was flying a kite.

The family had left a picnic basket on a blanket.

Brownie Kinbump wanted to see what was in the basket,

Brownie Kinbump went and peeked in the basket.

Brownie Kinbump fell in the basket, next to an apple.

Brownie Kinbump liked apples.

The family picked up the basket.

The family put the basket down again.

Brownie Kinbump peeked out of the basket.

Brownie Kinbump was in a house.

Brownie Kinbump saw the girl.

The girl was dressed like a Brownie.

The girl saw Brownie Kinbump.

The girl jumped up and down and clapped her hands.

The girl said she would take Brownie Kinbump to help her sell cookies.

Brownie Kinbump said, “What’s the matter with you?  With growing childhood obesity and type 2 diabetes, you should be ashamed of yourself.  Besides real brownies eat fruit.  Fruit, not that processed rubbish.”

 

Padre

 

Magic They Display

Pixabay

Among the heliotrope and pansies

Sprites and Pixies dance – when we’re away

Our green-fingered efforts

In which we take such pride

They smile broadly at –

Then true magic they display

They giggle at our arrogance

Our endeavours they deride

They think it such jolly sport

To conjure blossom when we’re inside

The Fairies chase, and sing, and play

Cover taking when e’re we appear

Amid the sweet scents of rich perfume

Wishing for our exit – swift

Their merry games to resume

 

Padre

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Once Upon A Time In The Greenwood

“It has been really quiet in the wood of late,” Thorafax the Gnome commented to Adriel the Sprite.

“I saw a dog-walker yesterday,” the Sprite replied.  “It was Brooster, so it had to have been Henry behind the mask with him.”

“I’m sorry I missed it,” Thorafax said.

“What are you two jawing about,” a sullen looking Gnome interrupted.

“Oh,  Hi Androw.  Just discussing how quiet the wood is,” Thorafax replied.

“Does my heart good, it does,” Androw said.  “Even the blasted noise from the roadway has largely gone.  Good riddance, I say.”

Androw had never quite gotten over having the hollow log which surrounded his home being used a seat for some all-night teenage partiers a few years before.  If their racket wasn’t bad enough, the rubbish – bottles and such – that they stuffed into the log had him trapped for hours.  He had eventually dug himself out, but never much cared for Human-folk ever since.

“Well, I kind of miss them,” Adriel said.”

“You Sprites don’t know a thing,” the grump of a Gnome said.  “Your homes are on boughs where they can’t upset them.  No, what would you do if they come by and picked ALL the flowers?  And they will someday, mind.”

“I’d think you were scaremongering again,” The Sprite replied. “Humans aren’t that bad.”

“You daisy-hearts are all alike.  I think we should build a wall or something while they are away.  That would keep the wood safe!” Androw said firmly, then turned and stomped off to his log.

Padre

Tale Weaver – #271 – Fairy Tale – What The Fairies Think: Write a story/fairytale in which you explore how they are reacting/coping with their human ‘friends’ being home all the time.

 

The Inhabitants

Image by Kevsphotos from Pixabay

We have always lived in the castle.  Not me personally, mind, but our family has been in the castle as long as there has been one.  Before even.

We were on the site when Boyda and his people raised the wooden palisades upon our hill.  Those were pleasant times, and we lived in harmony with the newcomers.  They treated us with respect, and the Druids brought us little treasures and laid them before our spring.

Then those coarse Latins arrived.  They tore down the lovely oak walls and raised ramparts of stone.  Some of these foul men disrespected us, and they didn’t think to thank us for the clear water that flowed from our spring.  But they learned – oh, how they learned.  My great-grandmother was but a girl then, but she remembered her mother making the water sour and many of the legion-men falling ill.   The gifts soon returned, I can tell you.  But these hard men left and our family lived quietly on our hilltop home among the decaying stone.

New visitors came, they called themselves the Folk, but they were not unlike the Romans or the Celts before them.  They rebuilt the walls and dug a well next to our spring.  Grandmother was not pleased with that and in her fury again tainted the waters and some of the newcomers fell blind.  They left our hill!

The castle builders came when my mother was a girl.  They robbed the stone from the hilltop and made new walls with high round towers and a gate with an iron portcullis.  They dug another well further down the hill, and used pipes to flow it to the keep.  They largely left our family alone, but mother remembers one day when a young man and woman sat looking longingly into each other’s eyes as they sat at the edge of our spring just outside of their walls.  Their love filled her with joy and she granted them a long life and happiness together.  It is their great-great-great-great-great grandchildren that sold the castle to the wool merchant.  I was a girl then, and his family were kind to us.  They loved nature and built the parks and gardens below the hill.  See how pretty they are.  I kind of like the statue they placed next to our spring.  It looks much like your grandmother when she was young, though it is silly that they put butterfly wings on the back of a Water-Sprite.

It was just before you were born that the present bunch came here.  They turned the castle into a hotel.  They built the two bungalows outside the walls and the little path to our spring.  Honeymoon cottages they call them.  I think it is lovely that the young couples come to enjoy our spring.  It is up to you now, my daughter, to protect the waters though.  These humans are such unpredictable sorts.  It was like when that man with the strange hair wanted to build a golf course here, I had to see him off.  You may have to do the same, he doesn’t seem to ever learn his lessons.

Padre

Christine’s Daily Writing Prompt: We Have Always Lived in the Castle