I listen to the fairy stories
Of my aunt’s and I envision
Their garden,
Enchanting with the pastels
Of growth and the swaying
Blooms spreading the fragrance
In the bright light of morning
After the dew is gone,
Where a perilous journey
Is hidden from human eyes,
The stars are uncounted
And a fairy can’t be caught
But they have their own
Net of words that they share,
They memorize me in the garden,
As I digest their world,
The view is beautiful and untouched.,
Where they love so much without
hate,
Opinions buried and not shared,
A fairytale world,
Joyous and with all happy endings
Celebrated inside their group,
Grace in their land with hardships
Overcome through teamwork,
Usually comforting all,
Witnesses always helping out,
They can
Not be unmasked or sequestered to a
Box by us,
It is blistering difficult to be patient
To steal a glance at them,
Unaware of my presence
And they let me see them.
–J. E. Cook © 2020
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