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Friday, April 22, 2016

Wishes - a poem about fairies

  This was inspired by two things - a story called 'A Guide for Young Ladies Entering the Service of the Fairies' and a poem by my friend Jennifer Lawrence called 'Tam Lin's Garden'. Both are brilliant pieces of writing and you should read them immediately.

   People talk about wishes now as if they were cheap things
   Spending their desire on casual words and wants that are
   lost between one thought and the next, forgetting that
   Words are things with weight and power, not to be wasted.
   People talk about wishing they could see fairies, as if
   Fairies were beings that exist to serve people, forgetting,
   Oh, forgetting a hundred lifetime's worth of wisdom
   Warning them not to play lightly with their own destruction.
   I would warn them as well, if I could - or perhaps not,
   for what fun is there in a game with no one to play with?
   Eternity is a long time to be bored when your playthings
   Stop playing, and its hard enough when they break so easily.
   Then again, what fun is there without the chase and seduction?
   When they trip over themselves in eagerness to fall into
   My hands, thinking all their wishing has finally paid off,
   And I need no more effort than showing up with a smile?
   Not much of a game that, when once they've promised,
   Once they've misspoken and given themselves up to me,
   The only fun left is the same struggle and slow breaking
   That's been played out so many times before, without change.
   Perhaps I would warn them after all, if they'd listen,
   Perhaps I'd remind them of all the old fear and caution,
   Of babies and brides stolen, of a hint of music that haunts,
   Of their place feeding a variety of appetites, some quite bloody.
   Perhaps I'd tell them of how there is no winning for them
   Once entangled, whether its by the dark or the light
   Because its a choice of suffering to amuse those who can't
   Be pleased, or endless, nameless dull service to the same.
   If I did they'd be wary, and watch their words, and hide,
   They would think, being wise to the truth, they had a chance,
   It's a grand game then, when the mouse gives the cat
   A good run, and I much prefer having to be a clever cat.
   I don't suppose it matters much in the end though, either way,
   One way or another the great game will keep playing out,
   As always, they will keep wishing for things dire and foolish
   And if luck is against them, their wish will be answered.
     - M. Daimler 2016

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