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More about, “Fairy Dust,”

I am madly at work on, “Fairy Dust,” but I thought I would take a bit of time out to let you know how things are going, if you are interested, and even if you are not interested, I am going to let you know anyway.
“Fairy Dust,” is going to be a collection of poems and stories, mostly about Fairies, but I may bring in other things from time to time.

Here are some of the things I have so far. Now don’t expect me to put the whole book on my blog, because if you do you will be disappointed. But from time to time, I will let you have a peek into the book, and into my mind. Scary thought. I mean looking into my mind, not the book.

So without further preamble, here is a few choice bits from, “Fairy Dust,”
Please be kind and let me know what you think, and please share this with all of your contacts. And if you like you can friend me on FB.

Ode to a toad

The fairies gather on the river bank
to feast, to dance, and sing.
It never matters what the song is,
as long as it has a bright cheerful ring.

They eat and eat, and eat a great deal,
until their tummies can hold no more.
They eat, and eat, and eat a long while,
until their tummies get quite sore.

And once their feasting is all done,
and before they take time to rest,
the tune up all their music things,
so their songs will sound their very best.

The fiddler fiddles with fiddle strings,
and takes time to polish his bow.
The guitarist strums his old guitar.
until the band is quite ready to go.

They wash their throats out with garlic juice,
so they can carry the proper tune,
and when all these things are quite done,
they sing beneath the light of a bright moon.

“Old Mr. Toad, pulled a big load,
as he hoped along the long muddy road.
He sang as he hopped, and he hopped as he sang.
As he hopped down the long muddy road
did old tired Mr. Toad, who pulled a big load.
He sang, flydiddle, flydiddle, flydiddledee,
I am as happy as a bumble bee.
I am as happy as squirrel up in a tree.
I am as happy as any toad could ever be.

So I say, flydiddle, flydiddle, flydiddledee
It’s a toady life for me, a toady life for me.

As Mr. Toad hopped along, hopped along
birds and bears and frogs and trees,
all stopped being busy and listened to his song.
and one by one they started to sing,
So I say, flydiddle, flydiddle, flydiddledee,
I am as happy as a bumble bee.
I am as happy as squirrel up in a tree.
I am as happy as any toad could ever be.”

As the fairies played, they’d smile and grin
and chuck each other underneath the chin,
as the guitarist strummed his guitar,
and the violinist sawed away on his violin.

They played and they sang,
they sang and they played.
until the summer night turned into day,
then packed up everything they had
and scurried away, scurried away.
until a new night was born
and they could come back to sing and play,
“So I say, flydiddle, flydiddle, flydiddledee,
I am as happy as a bumble bee.
I am as happy as squirrel up in a tree.
I am as happy as any toad could ever be.”

A Fairy Godfather

Old Bhradain Stinkeyfeet threw a pine nut at the robin trying to steal the worms out of the bait bucket. He shouted, “You old feathered, friggle frackle, you leave them worms alone. Me and my great-great-great-grandson, Railbeart Bogjam Stinkeyfeet spent most of last night a catching them. And we didn’t go about getting as wet as a fish, just to feed you.”
Robin Red-Feathers cocked his head, winked twice at the old fairy, trilled a bright chuckle, and went back to his breakfast.

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