A sprinkling of shining dust,
A healthy smattering of belief
All it takes to rise into the air,
To soar above the clouds.
Simple belief in the impossible
Children see reality as it ought to be
Everything real, possible too.
Imagination and faith combine
To making anything--everything possible.
Dreams upon their gossamer wings
come drifing down upon us
white and sparkling
like falling snowflakes,
glittering
The form of some sprite
or elven-like figure
tiny feet barely touching the surface
the sill of the window
silent, they creep
their delicate features,
angled in expressions of kindliness,
mischief,
happiness,
caring
touch as light as baby's breath
or soft raindrops upon skin
or downy feathers
They hover, silent,
or dart playfully above
No I did not steal this from who ever it was that wrote the other one like this. This is purely my own creation.
There they go, do you see them there?
They walk so lightly as if on air.
There they go in their silent prancing,
On the go for their midnight dancing.
There they are, I see them now.
The ladies curtsey, and the men bow.
Instead of feet, they dance with wings.
The flutes start to play; a single voice sings.
Chapter Nine
They gather when the fields are green,
beneath the golden sun,
they gather in the meadow,
ready for some fun
They run amongst the grass,
waving above their heads,
they skip into a circle,
and gladly, catching hands:
they hop to the left and spin to the right,
they sing their happy tunes,
while others play the fiddle and fife
upon a gray mushroom
In and out they weave around,
threading through the daisies,
Up and down they dance around
to the skies music is raising
Chapter Eight
Chapter Seven
Ficum trudged up the riverbank to the Water Fairy’s house, his young face glowing with health and exercise. He was returning from his long hike in the woods, and his eyes sparkled with excitement and happiness. When he was halfway up the bank, he suddenly remembered that he was supposed to have cleaned his bedroom, and that his mother would probably have discovered the mess by now. Stooping down, he hastily picked some violets with which the grass was thick. He decided to offer them to his mother as a “peace offering”. Perhaps then she won’t be so angry with me, he thought.
Anomien could not tell what Ficum did. From where she was mounted on her dolphin, it seemed to her that Ficum and the two panthers just stared at one another, looking each other in the eye. They stayed in that manner for quite a while, and then to Anomien’s utter amazement, the panthers bowed their heads slightly, as if in acquiesce, and padded slowly up to the boy’s feet. Once there, they proceeded to gently lick his wounded arm, washing it as only they knew how. Ficum, meanwhile, stroked their sleek fur as a mother caresses her babe.
Thirteen years later.