Fairy Tales

Poem about my mother and the things she's taught me.

Woven out of gilded golden thread
with iridescent and purple dust
shimmering as though from pixie’s wings
beautiful stories graced my ears
that I didn’t realize some children would never hear
fashioned cages of wood and wire for capturing
butterflies, fireflies
and any figments of the imagination
told me things like
lions could talk if they lived in a land in a wardrobe
and thunder was angels bowling
and Santa Claus was real
and everything was going to be okay
even when it was a mess
You’re the one who told me
happy endings come to those who wait
(and work hard in the meantime)
You’re the one who taught me
what it takes to be a real princess
not trying on shoes, or singing to dwarves
or garnering attention
but loving the unloveables
gracefully shutting your mouth
when you could easily verbally tear that person to shreds
after they wounded you
to sacrifice yourself
to give more than you get
I must admit, you set the bar high
I sincerely hope one day I’ll emulate you well,
that I give the stories justice
to maintain the magic
to pass on the fairy tales.