That brain injury did you good. I'd worry a bit about talking to little things on your shoulder. But, hallucinations are a good thing when they help you come up with a story.
On a long ago forgotten trail, there was a tree with long slender branches that gracefully touched the ground. You hade to move the branches aside to continue on the trail. Once under the tree, it was a most magical place. There was a stone wall you sit on. It was like sitting under an umbrella of branches. I would take my granddaughters thwere, and told them it was a fairie tree. We would sit there under this tree, and watch the fairies fly from leaf to leaf and dance for us. Those are magical memories for us.
Such a delightful "fairy" tale, Jane. As you know, I believe in magic and fairies; I am a big fan of Alice in her Wonderland. Thank you for sharing. Love and best wishes,
Utterly charming, my dear. I am a classic poet and therefore appreciate the discipline of such rhythm and rhyme that maintains its integrity throughout the poem. One of your better achievements, I dare say. Enjoyed this from start to finish. Is it over? I want more. John
Over the years, especially those two wasted decades, I have averted what would have been very bad news to me. I didn't see my fairie, but I always knew she was around.
Each person is but a grain of sand resting beside the sea. This thought sets the tone for Jill Eisnaugle’s latest poetry collection, Beside Still Waters.
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Ron
Michael D.
(PS I have a friend with the last name of FAIRIES...first name Jim)
Regis