Penny for a Poem

Fabled Fae

In gilded pages and ink-spun words,
I discover realms where fae reign, where magic whispers, like song of birds, through sylvan groves and moonlit glades. I long to follow those winding trails, to tread where wild roses entwine, to bask in the light of tales that beckon my heart to that fae borderline.
In sprawling meadows of emerald sheen, where dryads dance on zephyr's breath, I roam as an unseen, unfettered being, untouched by the mortal world's anguish and death.
Beneath ancient boughs and knotted roots, hollow hills rise, their mysteries rife, enticing me forth on this page-turned route, to the immortal fae's ageless life. Crystalline streams, babbling and bright, rain diamond droplets through verdant gloams, guiding my path to wondrous sights, to the fabled, enchanted faerie roams. In those storybook woods, fear cannot prowl, I'm shielded by spells of hope sublime, as poems paint scenes where sprites lightly trawl through groves untouched by weary time. Oh, to run forever on that eternal track! To quest where quill and myth unite!
To roam those charmed fields and not look back on reality's dimming light. For in the bound rhymes of fanciful tales, a refuge of unbridled whimsy thrives, where unicorn princes and magic prevails, and possibility endlessly survives. But I cannot trespass that storied frontier, however fervent my wanderlust burns, my mortal form is tethered here, to the only world that reason confirms.
So I linger within literature's wildwood, escaping astray on each page I turn, traversing in dreams what forever I would those unbounded tracks my gypsy soul yearns.
Through forest and fen of fantasy's lands, over mountains and vales of myth's archaic, I'll roam evermore with pen in hand, chasing the forever of that fabled Faerie.