Croning My Way Through Life
Peacocks sweep the fairies’ rooms;
They use their folded tails for brooms;
But fairy dust is brighter far
Than any mortal colours are;
And all about their tails it clings
In strange designs of rounds and rings;
And that is why they strut about
And proudly spread their feathers out.
~Rose Fyleman, “Peacocks,” 1917
Pretty, pretty fairy ballet,
dancing shoes and fairy hair.
Sparkle, sparkle twirly dresses,
fairy dust everywhere.
Heels together, feet are pointing,
hands look pretty on our hips.
Bending knees we’re fairy dancing,
happy smiles on fairy lips.
~ Fairy Ballet, The Fairies
Children born of fairy stock
Never need for shirt or frock,
Never want for food or fire,
Always get their heart’s desire:
Jingle pockets full of gold,
Marry when they’re seven years old.
Every fairy child may keep
Two strong ponies and ten sheep;
All have houses, each his own,
Built of brick or granite stone;
They live on cherries, they run wild–
I’d love to be a Fairy’s child.
~ Robert Graves
Stephanie Law‘s images dance along the boundary between dream and reality.
She delves into the delicate language of allegory, exploring mythology in watercolors and inks.
Early on, Law’s career moved through the illustration and the gaming world, but in recent decades she has focused more on her own delicate and yet intricate paintings.
She interweaves texture, watercolor, gold and silver leaf, and ink to create intricate layered pieces with resin and custom designed frames.
Her art journeys through surreal other worlds, populated by dreamlike figures, masked creatures, and winged shadows.
Her paintings are delicate and soft, full of magic and mystery and simple representations.
Law has been a dancer for almost two decades, and her experience of how the human body moves and emotes connects to her art in the most basic of ways.
Look close and find fairies, birds, cats, dragonflies, and all kinds of mystical creatures in her soft pastel colors.
More of Stephanie Law‘s magical artwork can be found at https://shadowscapes.com/.
The moonlight fades from flower and rose
And the stars dim one by one;
The tale is told, the song is sung,
And the Fairy feast is done.
The night-wind rocks the sleeping flowers,
And sings to them, soft and low.
The early birds erelong will wake:
‘T is time for the Elves to go.
O’er the sleeping earth we silently pass,
Unseen by mortal eye,
And send sweet dreams, as we lightly float
Through the quiet moonlit sky
For the stars’ soft eyes alone may see,
And the flowers alone may know,
The feasts we hold, the tales we tell;
So’t is time for the Elves to go.
From bird, and blossom, and bee,
We learn the lessons they teach;
And seek, by kindly deeds, to win
A loving friend in each.
And though unseen on earth we dwell,
Sweet voices whisper low,
And gentle hearts most joyously greet
The Elves where’er they go.
When next we meet in the Fairy dell,
May the silver moon’s soft light
Shine then on faces gay as now,
And Elfin hearts as light.
Now spread each wing, for the eastern sky
With sunlight soon shall glow.
The morning star shall light us home:
Farewell! for the Elves must go.
Louisa May Alcott
Amy Brown is one of my all-time favorite artists. I’ve loved her work since I role-played a faerie woman 20 years ago.
Brown has always been interested in fairies, but never considered painting them as a career option until one day her boss asked her to paint something to fill an empty frame that had been sitting around the art gallery where she worked.
Brown asked what she should paint and her boss said, “I don’t know, paint a fairy or something.” So she did.
It was like the faeries were pushing her to paint their portraits.
After selling prints and originals at street fairs and in local shops for a few years, Brown opened a website and began selling her work online worldwide.
The business has since take on a life of its own.
Using colors, designs, and background, Brown has truly captured the world and the imagination of the faerie world. Each faerie glows with a personality all their own. 
“My passion to paint is like a living creature inside me,” Brown said.
“All the ideas in my head churn and beg to get out. I’m driven to get them onto paper and out of my head as soon as possible.” 
“Once I’ve conjured one creature, another is waiting impatiently for its turn.”
More of Amy Brown‘s magical art can be found at https://amybrownart.com/.
Then clear on a flute of purest gold A sweet little fairy played. And wonderful fairy tales she told and marvelous music made.
~Ida Rentoul Outhwaite
https://purplerays.wordpress.com/2021/06/18/fridayfantasy-if-i-were-a-fairy/
If I Were A Fairy
I’d love to sit on a clover-top
And sway,
And swing and shake, till the dew would drop
In spray;
To croon a song for the bumble-bee
To leave his golden honey with me,
And sway and swing, till the wind would stop
To play.
I’d weave a hammock of spider-thread
Loose-hung,
Where grasses nodded above my head
And swung.
And all day long, while the hammock swayed
I’d twine and tangle the sun and shade,
Till the crickets’ song, “It is time for bed!”
Was sung.
Then wrapped in a wee gold sunset cloud
I’d lie,
While night winds sang to the stars that crowd
The sky.
And all night long, I would swing and sleep
While fireflies lighted their lamps to peep—
“Oh, hush!” they’d whisper, if frogs sang loud—
“Oh hush-a-by!”
.
by Charles Buxton Going
Art by Asako Eguchi
… every child can remember laying his head in the grass, staring into the infinitesimal forest and seeing it grow populous with fairy armies…
~ Robert Louis Stevenson
When the first baby laughed for the first time, its laugh broke into a thousand pieces, and they all went skipping about, and that was the beginning of fairies.
~
When I sound the fairy call,
Gather here in silent meeting,
Chin to knee on the orchard wall,
Cooled with dew and cherries eating.
Merry, merry, Take a cherry
Mine are sounder, Mine are rounder
Mine are sweeter, For the eater
When the dews fall. And you’ll be fairies all.
~Robert Graves, “Cherry-Time,” Fairies and Fusiliers, 1918
Last night I looked off my back deck into the darkness, across the empty yard and to the woods beyond, and saw faeries busy doing whatever faeries do, their little lanterns flashing on and off as they fluttered through the darkness.
I’m so glad I still believe in magic.
The fairies went from the world, dear,
Because men’s hearts grew cold:
And only the eyes of children see
What is hidden from the old…
~Kathleen Foyle
Did you ever hear
Of the frolic fairies dear?
They’re a blessed little race,
Peeping up in fancy’s face,
In the valley, on the hill,
By the fountain and the rill;
Laughing out between the leaves
That the loving summer weaves.
Frances Sargent Osgood
Buttercups in the sunshine look like little cups of gold.
Perhaps the Faeries come to drink the raindrops that they hold.
~Elizabeth T. Dillingham, A Faery Song
Animals are such agreeable friends ― they ask no questions, they pass no criticisms. ~ George Eliot
Solar Halos
The iron tongue of midnight hath told twelve;
lovers to bed; ’tis almost fairy time.
~ William Shakespeare
Come away, O human child!
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the world’s more full of weeping than you can understand.
~ W.B. Yeats
Snow Fairy
by Claude McKay
Throughout the afternoon I watched them there,
Snow-fairies falling, falling from the sky,
Whirling fantastic in the misty air,
Contending fierce for space supremacy.
And they flew down a mightier force at night,
As though in heaven there was revolt and riot,
And they, frail things had taken panic flight
Down to the calm earth seeking peace and quiet.
I went to bed and rose at early dawn
To see them huddled together in a heap,
Each merged into the other upon the lawn,
Worn out by the sharp struggle, fast asleep.
The sun shone brightly on them half the day,
By night they stealthily had stol’n away.
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Find more poetry from Claude McKay at http://www.poets.org/poetsorg/poet/claude-mckay
Find more images of real snowflakes at SnowCrystals.com
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Humoring the Goddess 