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Fairyland 02.09.2009
Playground of our old school is a
wonderland of rising hillock with
steep sides abounding in small
holes turned into fairy dells
I swept them with a broom
exposed coloured stones
leaf decorated, artfully
arranged fir tree needles
I remember fresh smell, sunbeams
glistening in dust, beauty of my
fairy valley, joy and peace
played alone, by myself
The dream of creating fairyland
lingers on in glittering fairy
figurines next to
my bed
Pasting fairy pictures everywhere
changing every space into a
magical place
poem
by
Margaret Alice
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