At the Bottom of the Garden

There are fairies at the bottom of the garden,

down where the brambles grow wild and free.

There is a tiny little door in the old oak,

they came skipping out to play with me.

I couldn't believe my eyes and I clapped in delight!

So very many took to dancing

on fluttering wings of all the rainbow colours.

Swirling, Dipping twirling and prancing.

The King and Queen held out their tiny hands to mine,

we spun to join the chaotic caper.

We leapt and frolicked to their beautiful music,

singing and wearing crowns of paper.

When I tired of the hectic fairy dancing pace,

the Princess and I drank nectar sweet,

from the honeysuckle, in dainty bluebell cups,

and on leaf plate, a pollen cake treat.

Too soon the day was done and our party over,

I waved good-bye to my happy friends,

as they tumbled back through their door in the old oak.

As a child does when a fun time ends

I shed a single tear, of which the Queen caught sight.

She kissed my cheek, gave me permission

to always, in future, join their fairy soirees.

Running to the house on a mission,

to share with my mum and dad about my new friends,

I was disappointed to find out,

adults lost their belief in fairies long ago.

Oh, such silly stories! did they shout.

I was sad, to be told to leave such childishness.

They said, You will be called a misfit!

Why does growing up mean I must stop believing?

The next time my friends I go visit,

I will take a camera with me, to show them,

Silly adults are the ones to goof!

If seeing will convince the boring old doubters

I will take photos to give them proof:

There are fairies at the bottom of the garden.

This poem is my attempt at Mike Singleton's challenge to use the image in the link below as inspiration for a poem, micro fiction or similar.

If you aren't already a member of the Vocal Social Society, I would encourage you to do so. It is a wonderful supportive community.

There is a second inspirational source for this poem. The Cottingley Fairies. In 1920, Frances Griffith and Elsie Wright, stunned the world with their photos of fairies, taken in Elsie's garden. The photos were examined by experts of the time and declared to be genuine. Bare in mind, technology was not very advanced at the time. It was not until more than 50 years later, the photos were identified as hoaxes. There have been many articles, stories and even a movie made about the photos.

Below is a link to an article on the Cottingley Fairy photos.

It was not until researching links for references for my inspirations that I discovered the opening of my poem is very similar to another poem by Rose Fyleman, first published in 1917. I have never read or heard the poem, but felt I should still reference it.

Thank you for taking the time to read my poem, I hope you have enjoyed it!