The Fairytale
by
Jacqueline Gledhill
Have you ever seen a fairy?
An elf or a sprite?
They can often look so friendly,
Yet they fill some souls with fright.
Take a look more closely,
Look at that little grin,
They appear to be so happy,
Could madness lie within?
Even in the storybooks,
The pictures are the same,
The elves dance 'round an old toadstool,
As they drive someone insane.
Its not love on those faces,
Or peace or truth or joy,
It’s the glee that they derive,
From some helpless girl or boy.
Now here’s a little story,
A short tale I have to tell,
About a hapless little lad,
Who got entrapped within their spell
His mother she meant well,
Reading him to sleep,
But she left the pages open,
Now from off of them they creep.
He knows that they are there,
To torment him in his bed.
Yet he’s too afraid to move,
In case those things see red.
He hears their wings start beating,
Against the papers face,
So screws up his eyes, holds his breath,
And longs for another place.
The creatures creep forth faster,
Breaking from the page,
What can the poor chap do right now,
To save him from their rage?
The magic folk of years gone by,
Sense their chance is near,
Make more effort to break free,
As he sheds a lonesome tear.
His heart it’s beating faster,
Than it’s ever done before.
It almost stops, when he hears the sound,
Of his bedrooms closing door.
Their presence is much closer,
He feels it deep inside,
And as his cover gets pulled off,
He really could have cried
His eyes they do spring open
For the horror he must greet,
But instead of them standing there,
It’s his mother fair and sweet.
She closes all the pages,
Locks those evil things away,
The boy he smiles takes a breath,
They didn’t get him, not this day.