Fairies bound, hilltop to hilltop, ignoring laws of gravity, time and space.
The frightened observer, unable to accept the scene, attempts to recall her last meal.
“The dumplings were bad!” she exclaims, sinking into carpet-like grass, into grass-like carpet.
Fairies fracture yet fail to fade in the light of this untruth.
A dream? A nightmare? An inspiration?
Fairies don’t care what you call them.
They are the lucky ones, the strangely marvelous, the marvelously strange,
Living forever in a moment, and in the moment, forever.
*
for Rara.
Ah, this is great – especially the carpet-like-grass, grass-like-carpet. I trundled over to ForThePromptless and wrote my own little poem, although I’m not at all sure how it all works 😉 x
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Thank you! And I hope you explore a bit of the loveliness that is Rarasaur. She and her husband are the best thing to be found in all of WordPress – generousness incarnate. Prompts for the Promptless is Rara’s own creation – and it is very informal.
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I’ll be sure to explore. I love the idea of having a prompt a week – I’ve been meaning to write a poem about absinthe for aaages and it inspired me immediately! x
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