Fairies.

Fairies are little folk with silvery wings.

Every time I see them my old heart it sings.

I dream of fairies nearly every night,

They come and play with me to my delight.

Moonlight nights are enchanted I know,

Because all of my fairies tell me it is so.

To see the little people one must be pure in heart,

Then in the fairy games one may also take part.

The rules are simple be a good sport,

These rules all of the fairies are taught.

So join in the fun have a good time,

One day you might appear in my rhyme.

Curiosity Shop.

The road was wet from a shower that had for five minutes, come suddenly from a sun filled morning. Stepping carefully, I avoided the many puddles and watched the slight mists that came from the wet road. There had been no thunder just a heavy fall of rain that sometimes appear out of nowhere on a sunny hot day. In the fields to the left of me, I could see sheep busily grazing on the wet grass. I myself was not wet, as I had stood under a tree during the downpour. I was on my way to visit a curiosity shop in the next village. I could have used my car but as the day was so warm, I decided to walk the three miles I was in need of a little exercise and this was as good an opportunity to take rather than use my car.

The village of Green Street Green came into view the roads here were wet so they must have caught the shower as I did under my tree. Passing the Baker’s shop and the Dairy I saw the curiosity shop. The shop was open and I walked into the somewhat dark interior. As I pushed open the shop door a small bell jangled in the back of the house. By opening the door I had made contact between two electric wires this had caused the bell to ring. “Good morning,” I called and heard a voice saying, “I will be with you in a moment have a look around.” I had been in this shop a number of times and always managed to find something out of the ordinary.

The shop was filled old pictures, some hung on the wall many were stacked in a long shelf. Old brass horse medallions were also hanging on the wall along with small pieces of china and cups and saucers. Old milk jugs and all the bric a brac that one finds in these old shops, under a long glass topped counter were medals some from the First World War. Next to the medals, there were a few pocket watches and an old compass. The compass interested me the most it was of peculiar design and the needle that points to North was standing still on South. The owner who I had seen many times came from the back and asked me whether I had found anything. I pointed to one of the pocket watches and asked to see it closer. The watch after I had wound it with a small watch key that the man produced started ticking away. I said that I would buy the watch if it was not too expensive and the compass. “The compass does not work you know” he had a pleasant voice and I answered that I would take it apart and clean it. Perhaps I will be lucky I heard myself say.

With the pocket watch and winding key and the compass, I left the shop and made my way back home. The roads were now dry and I arrived home in a couple of hours. Making myself something to eat I sat at my kitchen table and looked at the watch and the compass. Opening the back of the watch I found that it was quite old and had a chain driven drive something one rarely sees today.   I decided that I would clean the watch (A hobby of mine) and re-oil it. Then I carefully opened the compass and found a small piece of paper with some writing on it was blocking the mechanism that kept the magnet needle moving. Taking the paper out of the compass, I saw that the compass needle was now pointing north. The compass was I am happy to say now working properly.

I carefully opened the piece of paper and saw written in a strange hand the words (Follow the Needle it will show you the way.). I looked at the compass more carefully especially the needle. The needle slowly started to spin then slowed down it was now pointing to the west. I took out one of my maps of England and placed the compass onto it. The needle still pointed west and I moved the compass slowly across the map. The needle of the compass stopped and pointed once again to the north. Taking the map and my new compass I put on my hiking gear and locking the doors of my house I walked off. Every couple of miles I checked the compass with the map. I eventually arrived at Cardiff in South Wales and the needle spun around and then stopped. I had followed the needle of the compass now what? I then saw the advert on a building Fairies for sale magic potions for all occasions. I went into the building and saw much to my surprise four Fairies that were trapped in a large cage. Taking my magic wand from my pocket I freed the Fairies and then I saw the compasses that were for sale. It was in such a compass that one of the Fairies had jammed the paper to stop the needle from moving. The compass was considered to be useless and was thrown away. A man found the compass and sold it to the second hand shop. I had unknowingly been the means to free the Fairies. My curiosity as to why the compass did not work freed the four Fairies from the magic shop in Cardiff. I then caught a train back to London and back home to my house on Dartford Heath. Her Majesty the Fairy Queen who thanked me for rescuing the Fairies awaited me. The compass is still in my desk along with the pocket watch both work quite well. The compass is for sale if anyone would like to buy it, the pocket watch I will keep.

Wag My Dog.

Wag is very happy, at the moment he is sitting in a waiting position. His large brown eyes follow my every move. What captures his attention so much? I am afraid it is the meat that I have cut and mixed with his vegetables. In other words his dinner, if he wants to wag his tail, his tail will give off periodic wagging motions half as if he is under some kind of impulsive suggestion. I know that when I am finished and tell him that he can now have his dinner, his tail will wag backwards and forwards just once before he settles down to the serious business of eating. Finishing his meal his tail wags fast backwards and forwards until he has wagged enough as if as to say thank you. Wag’s meals vary he eats anything that I place before him. There is such a trust between the pair of us. One day I had nothing but some stale bread in the house. I cut the bread into large squares and soaked them in some milk and water. Placing the milk and water soaked bread into wags dish, I apologised and set it before him. To my surprise he wolfed down the wet bread and wagged his tail to show his appreciation. It was the same on the day when I only had fish in the house. A large piece of cod that I cooked in the oven with some milk leftovers and a pinch of salt, this was our midday lunch. Wags tail goes mad after eating. No matter what I serve up he always wags his tail.

On a visit to a friend’s house I told Wag to be on his best behaviour. Wag seemed to understand me and was during our stay very unobtrusive. He settled down behind the sofa, which gave him plenty of cover, and he could see my legs and feet. My friend brought a bowl with some meat and dog biscuits Wag did not touch them. My friend asked me to give Wag the food. I placed the bowl on the floor and told Wag that it was all right and that he could come and eat the food. Wag stretched and slowly got up from behind the sofa with a slight wag of his tail he ate the biscuits and meat then with a wag of his tail he disappeared behind the sofa watching again my feet and legs. As the evening wore on my friend asked me whether Wag would like some water, I said no but I bet he would love to stretch his legs. Getting up out of the sofa I watched Wag crawl out from under the sofa with his tail wagging as fast as he could move it. We went out onto the strip of grass at the back of my friend’s house and Wag ran off with a light bark and his tail wagging as if it was his tail that kept him in balance. I gave Wag ten minutes and told my friend that it was time for us to leave as I had much to do the next day. We parted with the words see you again soon and with Wag at my heels we walked quickly home.

Wag’s next adventure was with a dog from down the road. Now Wag is a mixture of at least three different dogs if not more. The dog that he was friendly with was a thoroughbred German shepherd dog. Wag is a powerful dog standing broad shoulders and will face anything that he thinks is coming too close to me. He growls once before showing his teeth. I have to be quick in telling him that the person or animal is a friend. One day the German shepherd made a run for me, why I do not know it just attacked without warning. From the back of the house Wag came running and with his sheer weight pushed the German shepherd over to one side. Then came the growl and the fletching of teeth. I quickly said, “out! Wag and Wag backed off from the German shepherd. Since that day the two dogs have a likening for each other and they often share food bowls and water pots. Now whenever I see the German shepherd he comes a running with his tail wagging, not so fast as Wags tail but it does wag. Wags favourite though is a small tortoise shell cat from down the street. The cat owns my house with all that is in it. Wag lets her sleep between his front paws and lays his rather large head next to her. Food is shared with the cat taking what she wanted before Wag even touches the food bowl. This is Wag my dog and I ask all to respect him for being the most faithful and obedient dog that I have ever had staying with me.

Shoe Repairs.

A Leprechaun came to my large old house.

He spoke for a long time to my Family Mouse.

His job he said was to repair old shoes.

Now this to me was some very good news.

I had at least six pairs of shoes to repair.

He could eat with us and our meals share.

I would pay him for work well done in gold.

But I wanted my shoes both heeled and soled.

He started work right away on my old shoes.

I needed them badly to go on a long cruise.

He cut and hammered and sewed all day long.

On his lips a lilting strange sounding song.

For the last pair of shoes the leather he used.

Was of magic and had me quite confused.

I wanted to walk a mile or two to the town.

I was there at once, which caused me to frown.

It takes a young healthy man ten minutes or more.

To get from my house to the local grocery store.

But with my shoes magic are the leather soles.

I could appear anywhere to buy my bread rolls.

I just had to think of a place that I wanted to go.

I was transported there in seconds you know.

I know I suddenly thought of Paris in France.

Why I was there it was just like in a trance.

I paid the Leprechaun some gold for my shoe repairs.

Wearing new shoes Family Mouse came down stairs.

In his spare time the Leprechaun made them all shoes.

It was their secret not one mouse gave me any clues.

Their tiny shoes were all of magic leather made.

Which put all my poor working attempts in the shade.

A Wicked Wizard.

Passing through Fairyland was a wicked Wizard,

Every one that he saw he turned into a Lizard.

Fairies, Elves, Leprechauns, Trolls and Gnomes

could not find there way back to their homes.

Soon there were Lizards all over the place,

each with a lizard’s body and a fairies face.

Luckily a Wizards spell it lasts only a day,

But so many Lizards got in each other’s way.

My magic Help was needed badly you know,

I made the Wizards footsteps heavy and slow.

Then I cast one of my magical spells,

The Wizard could only drink from wishing wells.

Wishing wells are scarce and very far apart,

He should have thought of this right at the start.

Then I had a brilliant and wonderful idea,

I took his magic away for exactly one year.

From Fairyland I banished him for life,

Made him marry an old witch for a wife.

Now in Fairyland Lizards are not to be seen.

I explained the reason why to the Fairy Queen.

Instead of Lizards, Rabbits are to be found,

They burrow their nests deep in the ground.

The Fairies gave the rabbits the name bunny,

Their hopping and jumping was ever so funny.

I soon had other things on my mind,

The money for a new car I had to find.

So I returned home to my large old house,

And talked finances with my family mouse.

A knock on the door in the middle of the night,

The Irish Leprechauns had heard of my plight.

They bought me twenty pots of their gold,

To buy a brand new car mine was so old.

Now we go for runs in the countryside,

The little folk, family mouse we all go for a ride.

No more Wizards have in Fairyland been seen,

Which was a good thing said the Fairy Queen.

Dragon’s Tears.

As I am writing this short story the first snow of winter is falling. The ground is covered in white and I am looking at the falling snowflakes from the comfort of my old arm-chair before a fire of logs that give off a crackling sound as they slowly burn to a bright red ash. Occasionally I place another log onto the fire and look out of my window pleased that I do not have to go out into the snow. The flakes are now more intense and the snow has covered the garden all in white even the bushes have a white overcoat. The most important thing is the silence; it is as if all sounds that one normally hears are gone. I remember wondering what happened to the roar of traffic that one hears from the not too distant motorway.

The last thing I remember is the crackle of a burning log. Dropping off into a doze I found myself in a far distant land. Here there was no snow just thick lush grass waiting to be cut for the winters hay. Peeping through the grass were numerous flowers. I remember thinking that they would make a good bouquet for my dining table. Trees filled with ripening fruits were all around the hay field these seemed to be basking in the afternoon sun. I heard the voices coming as if from far away. At first I did not think that they were voices but part of the afternoon sounds that one hears in the countryside.

The sounds continued. It was the Fairies and a Dragon. The Fairies were carefully collecting the teardrops that were running down the Dragons face. Dragon’s tears are very important for the casting of certain spells. To get the tears the Fairies have to tell the Dragon some very sad stories. Sometimes even these sad stories do not always work. It is very difficult to get Dragons tears and the Fairies use a trick they get the Dragon to peel onions, many onions this always works and the Fairies too, cry for there is nothing like peeling onions to make the eye’s water.

One small bucket after another was slowly filled with Dragon’s tears and these the Fairies poured into special bottle as each bottle was filled it was sent by means of the Fairies magic wands to the place where the wise old Fairies looked after all of the herbs and magic things that were stored there ready for use when needed. As the Dragon saw me it cried even more. This delighted the Fairies that were collecting the teardrops and they asked me to tell the Dragon a sad story. I agreed and told the Dragon this, my following little story.

A long, long time ago when there were many Dragons in this world, a young Knight in shining armour killed a Dragon. No not a full-grown Dragon just a young baby, one might say. The Parents of this baby Dragon swore revenge on this young Knight that had killed their only child. They followed the Knight, day after day, always one day behind him. The knight became very famous as a slayer of Dragons. As I told the Dragon my story the tears rolled down from his eyes onto its cheeks and then into the Fairies buckets.

The name of the young Knight was Mortimore. Mortimore the Brave he was called by all of the people he killed one Dragon nearly every day. My Dragon cried and cried. The Fairies then told me that they had enough Dragons tear drops for the wise old Fairies and that I could now end my story. I told the Dragon that at last the parents of the baby Dragon caught up with Mortimore the Knight and attacked him from both front and back. Mortimore had no chance and the two angry Dragons killed him and left him there for all to see. The once proud Mortimore that had killed hundreds of Dragons was now dead killed by the parents of the baby Dragon that he had first killed.

On hearing this, my Dragon stopped crying and started to boast about how good Dragons were and how bad the knights were. I then told the Dragon that I had made the story up for him so that the Fairies could get more of his teardrops, which were more famous than the Dragons that had killed Mortimore. With the teardrops one could make medicines or make magic spells that were very useful for all on this earth whether they be animal or human or Fairies. It was better to shed a few tears to do some good than to kill someone for revenge no matter what they have done on this earth.

The Fairies sent the Dragon to China where it still lives in a very remote valley to this very day. It does not cry any more but sometimes sighs as he remembers how he gave the Fairies his tears for medicine and magic. This always cheers him up and he walks the valley with his head held up on high.

I woke about five o'clock in time to place more logs on to the fire then to boil the kettle for my evening tea. I happened to look into the mirror and what do you know my eyes were very red rimmed as if I had been crying. I put it down to the logs that I had been burning perhaps they gave off some smoke that got into my eyes or indeed was I perhaps that Dragon that had given off so many tears for the Fairies. I do not know dreams are funny things to try and take apart.

Fairies And A Donkey.

I bought my mice a donkey today,

It really could do nothing but bray.

The fairies too all wanted a ride,

I had to walk by the donkey’s side.

I spent a lot of my time buying fresh carrots.

Sometimes I wish I had bought some parrots.

It is tiring walking beside a donkey all day,

If it were not for the fairies I would give it away.

The little mice are all well behaved you know.

They only say that the donkey is too slow.

I have a large problem finding it fresh hay.

I will give it some cooked potatoes today.

Tomorrow well I will just have to wait and see,

Perhaps you have some fresh grass for me.

Fairies, mice and a donkey are for me too much.

For myself I prefer poems, stories and such.

If you would like a donkey to call your very own,

Then please do come quickly to my old home.

The Fairy Queen would give it a new stall,

And I will give a new saddle just to top it all.

Please stop and hear my desperate plea.

For the donkey will be the death of me.

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