My Attempt

So, I read some of the poems y’all suggested. (I loved the Wreck of the Hesperus). And I tried one of my own. It’s a bit silly, and I don’t like the ‘magic’ and ‘tragic’ rhyme at all, but for lack of a better one, I left it. Maybe someone can help me change it? But how do you all like it?

The Faerie Child
______________________________________
In spring the faerie child awakes
From winter’s golden sleep
She finds the rosebuds frosted o’er
And weeps a little weep

She cries to see the queenly birch
Bowed to the ground with snow
The laughing brook by which she’d play
No longer free does flow

The earth had froze in time and space
All growth had ceased to be
The woodland creatures gathered up
To warmer weather flee

The faerie child’s playground gone
She sits to mourn her loss
She’ll never more through flowers flit
Or light on dewy moss

Her days of wand’ring fields are o’er
The wheat and aster gone
Her tears flow free upon the snow
Until the cold, grey dawn

Then slowly, slowly comes a change
That creeps o’er earth’s cold face
The faerie child gasps to see
The wonders taking place

A warming light as bright as gold
Is blanketing her world
The trees shake loose their snowy load
And flowers come uncurled

The brook is thawed and whispers soft
The tune of early spring
The faerie child dries her eyes
And then begins to sing

She draws the creatures from their dens
And wakes the sleeping trees
She calls the other faeries up
To feel the morning breeze

She laughs and lifts her head with joy
“See what the dawn did bring?”
The other faeries shake their heads
“It happens every spring.”

The faerie child paused her dance
“You mean this isn’t magic?”
“Of course it is, now cry no more.
There’s no need to be tragic.”

This is spring, when dead awakes
And winter looses earth
A time to grow and laugh and play
A time of joy and birth

Though since the start it’s come each year
The magic’s not diminished
For even after weeks of change
It never quite is finished

It hides in flowers, dales, and moss
In cozy little trees
It buries deep in meadow grass
To wait for some warm breeze

It’s not until the frost is gone
And faeries start to sing
That is will stir from deepest sleep
To start another spring

Daeus

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