My Cat, the Funny Doze

Her fur goes “POOF!”
Her form twists
Chin upside down.

Her tongue sticks out,
A strawberry pout,
As she lies in
The chair she has found.

Her silver paws
That show no claws
Are criss-crossed
And laid long;

Her nose and toes
Are pink and those
Would dance
To any song.

In slight delight,
She spends the night,
In languid
Sweet repose,

As here I sit
And write, to wit,
“My cat,
The funny doze.”

~ Saoirse Fae

© The Fairy Tale Garden 2021


Mollie LOL Brighter.jpg


Mismatched eyes;
in gentle peace
gaze up from
a furry face

She sits so prim:
correct; confined
in patient solitude;
paws aligned

Dishonest peace:
two fine ears pricked;
her silver mane
pristinely licked

And lying down,
it’s still a lie:
she watches all
with her great eye.


~ Saoirse Fae

© The Fairy Tale Garden 2019

“Lela the Legless”


The spider, it crawled,
It creeped; it wriggled,
Into the sole
of an ancient shoe.

Abandoned, the shoe
had fallen, downhill,
and had come to rest
where the wind never blew.

Dry and warm,
the sole-fabric nestled
the spider –
and later-on, her brood

And to the spiders,
the shoe was a palace;
Even though
some might think it crude:

It sheltered them
from wind and storm
And gave the little ‘uns
room to play –

That ratty shoe
has made a home
for five generations,
now, today.

But here you came,
galumphing down
the hill, down which
that shoe had tumbled;

And as you ran,
your toe caught on
the lip of that shoe,
and your step, it fumbled.

And out came Grandpa,
Sue, and Tim,
Scurrying hastily
for their lives;

Their safe haven broken,
knocked over and squished,
Trampled and trodden
by your size fives.

Benny and Joe,
Frank and Molly,
All made it out,
All legs intact;

Most of the spiders
got out uninjured;
only one hurt,
as a matter of fact:

“Lela the Legless”
is now her name,
but she wears it with pride,
as she carries her fame.

All know her story:
how your monstrous shoe
knocked loose the stone
that would make her lame;

How the stone caused a rockslide
that tumbled and rumbled,
pinning her
down under the scree;

How her brothers and sisters
all stopped to help her,
even while
they tried to flee;

Each grabbed a leg;
Each gave a pull,
But one by one,
They all came off!

It was Grandpa
who saved
the day, that day;
Grandpa, yes, that grey old toff –

He hoisted the rock
Off poor Lela’s head,
dug her out,
and carried her down;

And setting her on
a soft mossy spot,
He gently and closely
examined her crown.

Each of her siblings
Brought him a leg,
and he tried
to attach them, again;

But to reattach them
couldn’t be done,
not even with
all web they could spin.

And so, “Legless”
was how Lela remained;
her siblings
carried her all around,

In a litter
spun from the finest threads,
of silk
mixed with fluffy down.

And each
night at twilight,
the family sits outside,
their gazes meandering over

To where,
were it not
for your misguided trot,
that shoe nestled in the deep clover

would still
be their home,
their lovely abode,
a sixth generation begun.

they reside
in an old metal can,
and they’ll thank you not to make fun!


~ Saoirse Fae

© The Fairy Tale Garden 2019

All images public domain

The Cat and the Butterflies

Cat and Blue Butterflies

Oh flutter, fly,
May their wings take them high,
And the moon shall light their way;
As the cat below,
He wriggles his toe,
And the night still holds full sway.
The butterflies blink,
They look like they wink,
To the sound of their own tune;
The night is so blue,
It calls to you, too;
And you join in their flight to the moon.

~ Saoirse Fae

© The Fairy Tale Garden 2018

All images public domain

Alice Inspired


Falling cards and flying mome raths
Herald Alice through the day
Nonsense riddles and twisting paths
Bring her mind to full dark play

Violent madness, Cheshire grins
Frighten her and draw her down
Deathly stories told by twins,
In her tears, she must now drown

Bread- and Butter-Flies lift her up
The singing flowers judge and pluck
Size change from a mushroom sup
Allows escape from all that muck

Caterpillar rings and deep blue smoke
Off with her head, and all that trope
Un-expected voices that darkly spoke
Seeking to rob her of her hope

Hatter’s friendship and March Hare’s weird
While traipsing through the Tulgy Wood
Nothing is quite as she had feared,
As, at the Cheshire tree, she stood

Bumbling dandelions and Rocking-horse Flies
Make their noise and help her through
In the end, she nearly dies,
In the end, it’s up to you.

~ Saoirse Fae

© The Fairy Tale Garden 2018

All images public domain


As I listen to waterfalls,
rushing by,
and the buzzing of wings
from the dragonfly,
I sit in my sphere;
Imagine me here,
Absorbing sweet nature, just it and I.

~ Saoirse Fae

© The Fairy Tale Garden 2018

All images public domain

Within the Light

As the sparkles lit up the night,
And you stood there, small but bright,
My joy overflowed;
I danced there, bare-toed,
And reveled within the light.

~ Saoirse Fae

© The Fairy Tale Garden 2018

All images public domain

The Dream Fairy

Moon and Fairy.jpg

Upon a wish,
A crystal, clear,
In sparkling splendour
Of the night,
Your dusky dream,
Her ears can hear,
The blessed fairy
Of the light.

In tickling whispers,
She receives,
The heart’s desire,
Within your breast;
Like mountain dew
On golden leaves,
Her granted wish
Will give you rest.

For how she sits,
Amid her cloud,
On crescent moon,
In listening pose,
Enables her
To hear so loud,
E’en the snowflake
Touch the rose.

So make your wish,
And make it grand,
Do not fear,
Don’t make it small;
For although wishes,
Be like sand;
She grants them all.

~ Saoirse Fae

© The Fairy Tale Garden 2018

All images public domain

The Fairy Queen



As Brigid walked, returning home,
Along a forest path,
She chided herself not to roam,
And thought of her next bath.

Yet Fate had very different plans
For Brigid, that sweet girl,
And drew her to the wood of Pan’s
By a-glimmer like a pearl.

But as she came within good sight,
She saw it was no glimmer,
Instead, her heart filled with delight,
As she saw sparkles shimmer.

“What are these little things?”
she asked, as she moved closer still,
The glowing of their tiny wings
Imparted such a thrill.

The Queen, she flew up, bright and small,
And greeted the fair lady,
“How dark you are, and oh, so tall,”
She gripped her ukulele.

“I mean no harm,” the lady said,
“I only want to see.”
Although she should be in her bed,
Her heart filled up with glee.

“Although you’re dark, you seem quite sweet,”
The Queen at last conceded,
“Your presence gives us quite the treat,
Just sit a ways,” she pleaded.

So gently that she might not tread
Upon a single fairy,
She moved away and there she shed
Her cloak, and sat to tarry.

Sitting there in deepest night,
She watched the fairies dance.
They moved and sparkled with such light,
She shortly was entranced.

A moment’s blink, or so it seemed
Dawn’s fog caressed her cheek.
The fairies’ dance and how they’d gleamed
Had put her straight to sleep.

And as she walked back to her home,
By light of rosy sun,
She ate a piece of honeycomb,
And thought of past night’s fun.

I will return tomorrow night,
She promised herself, firmly.
I need to see their sparkly light;
This time, I’ll go out early.

~ Amarine Rose Ravenwood

© The Fairy Tale Garden 2018,

Originally published in Cadence, an anthology published by Clarendon House Publications. 

All images public domain

The Forest and the Beast – A Halloween Poem


A fiend, a frog,
An old burned log,
The mist, it rises so…
The Jack’o’Lantern
In the bog,
The soot on frozen snow…

The trees, they crack
And creak and groan,
And shutters rap on glass…
The leaves that crackle,
Twist and blow,
The wind stirs through their mass…

The badger covers
Up his bore,
And burrows deep within…
The sounds upon this night
And more,
Cause shivers in his skin…

The birds, this night
They stop their flight,
And cower in their nests…
The screeching wind,
The branches bend,
And ruffles all their crests…

The forest rocks,
The houses moan,
And nothing is at peace…
And in the gloomy dark
And loam,
There passes through, a beast…

The trees, they give it
Gentle sway,
Removing from its path…
As through the brush,
It stalks its prey,
The night in all its wrath…

But suddenly,
The beast stops short,
And scents the air with fear…
And standing in its
Forest court,
It freezes like a deer…

Turning, swift,
It covers ground,
And slips off in the night…
The trees are sighing,
All around,
As the beast takes flight…

With bated breath,
The creatures sense,
A quick approaching shift…
The wind drops down,
The air is tense,
The mist begins to lift…

In one dark shiver,
The world aquiver,
The storm abates its force…
The pink of dawn,
Shines bright, its river,
Running like the horse…

The end of night,
The birth of light,
The day has come, at last…
And in the glistening
Of this sight,
We know the dark has passed…

~ Phoebe Grant

© The Fairy Tale Garden 2017

All images public domain