Comments*This site is truly inspirational. I have never gotten through the whole site in one sitting, but, I keep going back to it.
It makes me feel good each time I do. It is full of Spirit for his team, for the Site Fights, and for everyone in general
Faerie Queene Titania.
Presented 211125
A bouquet of flowers for a wee Faerie to dispose,
met a beggar and from her compassion arose;
From this bouquet of cheer, pick a delicate rose,
your needs are greater than mine, of that I suppose.
A red rose was taken from the bouquet with care,
almost with uncertainty frothed with a dare;
The rose to the beggar, to you I will stay awhile,
He returned the words with a very thankful smile.
On down the road a dragon she did meet,
who raged with the most terrible heat;
If you do not breathe so heavy on me,
from the bouquet a dainty snapdragon you'll see.
Around a bend came the Queen of Hearts on a filly,
for you dear lady choose the cream colored lily;
Filled with wonder the Queen exclaimed with a start,
I had not expected to meet a Faerie with a big heart.
Into the bog with light mist and fog at her back,
ventured into blackness and courage she did lack;
Running she thought to this journey to dispose,
when a most familiar voice from the darkness arose.
Your fear is unwarranted for your kindness is pure,
random acts of yours born of that we are sure.
Remember whom you have met and shared your love,
they will return ten fold you compassion of the dove.
Go into the valley and many flowers you may find,
pick only one of these flowers for being so kind;
The valley floor was covered with so many there;
finding just one special flower would take much care.
A tiny yellow bud was picked from the valley floor,
and upon picking there opened a large oak door;
Venturing through the portal the light it would blind,
cheering and kindness in abundance our Faerie's find.
Born out of kindness, born out of love,
the Site Fights were surely a vision from above;
The wee little Faerie is a vision of kindness we find,
when in the Site Fights we return kindness, in "kind."
This poem was written in the spring of 2000 after tending to our garden. Plumb tuckered and covered with dirt from head to toe, our email was checked prior to taking a shower and among the messages was one from a dear friend in Florida who is a master gardener and was participating in TSF. Kathy had requested a poem about gardening and our award honored one above was the one written for her. The kindness and compassion mentioned are about Kathy, who is among the wonderful folk The Faerie Keeper has met in TSF.
The Deep Forest
by Denny Lancaster
210912
Oaken had begun its bifurcating,
then Bernie stopped his conjugating;
The forest sounds were abrogating,
an evil Druid spirit which was elevating.
Dwelling deep within they were hidin'
Pale Riders whose time had been abidin'
The good master's hand would be guidin'
into the face of evil they were ridin'
Valor was victor for it was spiritualized,
through power in one its power materialized;
Evil and good in the forest at once collided,
now only the good Faerie's have long resided.
Human's may now inter into the deep dark middle,
carry a Spirit Faerie friend to unlock the riddle;
Of the wind, cheering and TSF to thus be outfitted,
to journey into the land of fantasy and be admitted.
A brief look at the poems symbolism, by understanding the growth of a tree.
Bifurcating - Divide into two branching parts, fork. All of a tree trunk's growing is done in a thin layer of living cells-the cambium-that surrounds the wood. This layer creates new wood on one side of itself, and new bark on the other. This way, in effect, it moves outward, pushing the bark before it, leaving wood behind. Over the years the trunk of the tree becomes bigger and thicker as this process repeats itself each growing season.
The marvelous chemistry of life tells this layer just how many wood cells will be needed to support the leafy crown, and how much bark to build in order to protect the wood beneath it. This process, infinitely repeated, has given the world its forests
Conjugating - To unite or join together. The natural joining of a tree is through pruning in nature, where grafting is a human effort to change a tree's growth.
Abrogating - To annul an authority, as a law. Sound in a forest is the natural order of the creator. Sound may cease through any natural or man made cause and effect.
The fountains mingle with the river
And the rivers with the Ocean,
The winds of Heaven mix for ever
With a sweet cheer and shout:
Nothing in the world is single;
All things by a law divine
In each team cheer mingle
Why not ours with thine?
Lift up your pen to write,
lines from your book of life;
Enter words which speak plain,
rhyme of conquering life's pain.
These are the thoughts of might,
words which give others light;
Wrap them around your pen tight,
where others may also give fight.
What better folk to coin rhyme,
than with Cherub Champions,
where cheer does chime.
In whom bells of hope and cheer do sing,
and friendship chimes always ring.
Are Cherub Champions born with wings?
Are blessings your precious things?
Do you see or hear tinkling brass?
Feel her wings as she does pass?
The answers are written on the wind,
Whose gentle breeze flows your way;
Outward symbols of friendship we send,
And happy thoughts of kindness we say.
Songs from our hearts flow into a verse,
From the wings of angels will dispel;
Utterances with no time to rehearse,
Within our hearts the verse did dwell.
From 'The Keep' Wee One's fly,
Cherubs and Faeries scatter too;
All from HIM are heaven sent,
to soften hearts, yes me and you.
Although our hearts not the same,
different messengers, they came;
Showing tears, without any shame,
one of them with us, will remain.
But of those messengers heaven sent,
Cherub Champions surrender the call;
Whose cheers in heaven they rehearse,
and daily TSF shouts freely disburse.
Cherubs in whose hearts reveal,
soft hearts, words of steel,
gentle words, we often feel.
Unbroken in a fearsome fight,
torch bearers in dim lit night,
paths trod, led us to the glen.
Oh joy to the Cherub Champion,
whose voice in union cheered;
On somber reflection day,
who have shown us the way.
We once had a Cherub Teddy,
who was always ready;
To travel in our flyer,
with me and our tiger.
We three always had fun,
kept our kittens on the run;
Bounced from bed to bed,
often stop Mother said.
But we continued our glee,
tiger, teddy, and me;
Until one day Cherub Teddy tore,
this had not happened before.
A sock replaced stuffing that day,
he was now lumpy - what more to say;
Then an eye was lost and not found,
replaced by an oval button, not round.
What a funny and dirty friend was he,
please wash the dirt from me;
He asked with a somber looking plea,
mother replied, let's just wait and see.
One morning tiger and I awoke to see,
now there were just tiger and me;
Mother said with a somber face,
Cherub Teddy has gone to a better place.
On to the city, wonderful and strong,
gleeful and quick strides, steps along;
So the proud author, victor of the prize,
continues to cheer and verse still fly's.
When Faeries in fullness of your sage,
write song in honor of your cheer's age;
Who would say they have not done their part,
and leave us with the sorrow of a mothers heart.
Now in Faerieland on your pen reclined,
you question the Faerie Mothers mighty mind;
Will they not cheer for another forth night,
and will cheer from them finally give flight?
No! Cheer will e'er return, return if I must,
glorious TSF cheers will never lay in the dust;
When you return look to the stars for cheer to rise,
with exhalations from all streaming to the skies.
Copyright: 1986-2010