I'm The Kind of Faery

 I'm the kind of faery

That turns your milk sour

And steals your bread

And tangles your hair while you lie asleep at night


I coax the weeds to grow in your garden

I like them more than your neat and controlled

Rows of flowers and vegetables


I don't like things that have an order

And a purpose


I peel the paint

And crack the plaster in your walls

To let the damp in


I like untidiness

Wildness

Disorder


When the shelf crashes down in the night

And the plates all crack

That's me


When you only have odd socks

I've taken the other halves of every pair

I'm probably wearing them

Dancing in the dewdrops somewhere

One spotted sock

One striped


But what if you let go

Of this obsessive need for order?


Use the mismatched crockery

Come dance in the dew in your mismatched socks


Let the damp in 

And a rich carpet of moss grow on your roof


And maybe flowers and vines

Will grow out of the floor

Making your own jungle garden


And you'll dance

Dance

A wild dance

In the garden of your own creation

In the freedom of your oddness



(c)opyright Laura Morrigan, 2011- 2021

Comments

  1. I am here for the dancing! And the mismatched socks! :D

    ReplyDelete
  2. Fantastic! I love this!!! Big Hugs!

    ReplyDelete
  3. This is fantastic and quite reminiscent of my home life at the moment, I'm sure the fair folk have hidden all our butter knives...

    ReplyDelete
  4. The kind of faery I'd aspire to be! That last line sums it all up so beautifully.

    ReplyDelete
  5. The perfect kind of Faery! so full of mischief, magic and whimsy..beautiful work.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Quilt Cover to Cottagecore Dress!

Melbourne Day 5 and 6

Update