The Queen Fairy's Room

In her boudoir are doors and drawers. Holding & hiding intimate things. All those attributes hidden underneath -- the "shh's" she does not share, but we all know are there. Supporting the image she seeks to be seen

Her room is a world of gothic, pointed arches. Atop windows and mirrors, which reflect & reveal the creatures dwelling with her there

Such delicate & sensitive beings inhabit her innermost scene. They like to drape from & peep. About the places she tries to put them into. To keep 

She cannot help that they exist within her space, private & deep

And now are here for eyes keen to see

Look into the glass which separates. It is a slight grace. Between the lines of public & privacy

If you stare, please. Do not glare. As to what you find here, it is quite rare -- believe you me -- windows & mirrors are set about discreetly. Allowing her concealed personalities to be seen.

You, she will not see in this secret window looking

To her it is but a mirror. Reflecting what does not appear. To herself so readily

Those creatures within & beneath the surface of things. Shy & not perfect. Sneaking out and peeking about

Will frighten away quite easily. If they catch a harsh gasp. 

Peering at her & they severely

Enjoy the view, please. Of this interior place. Where close to the heart many things lay. And of which, she never really meant to be on display.

--Christine Kincer 2010

Under the Fairy Lights

In the mystical moment when day forms from night, the first hour of twilight. I hear sneaky sounds. They're muted, little crackles. Very, very soft. Very, very slight. A bit bratty too. Adorable, yet spoiled. Tickles in your ears. As they laugh outright. There's no care for those sleeping. No care for polite way of doing things. Or rules, which are appropriate and right. These snickers take their claim to exist any way. Any time. Any place -- as loud as they like.

'Let's see if we can catch what they're doing.' Thought through my mind running. As those scatchy sounds lead me to a scented scene. Damp & woody.

I look up into such a magical sight. I find myself standing and awing under the fairy lights.

Mist falls on a banquet. What a mess! My goodness! Those naughty fairies left -- must have heard me coming.
Muddy footprints. Dainty light steps. Touching all over EVERYTHING.

Goblets tumbled down. Some even now. Back & forth rolling with berry red wine. Spilling and staining. The linen fine on a table lengthy wide. There are candles with wicks still lit and down the wax drips. Showing the party was not quite over just yet.

Raspy noises again capture my attention in the distance. Those stinkin' fairies are laughing at me. It's okay. Yes.

I'll catch them next time. But for now, all these long coats left behind. Are mine. I'm taking them from the chairs, whose backs are high, scattered about here & there under the fairy lights.






--Christine Kincer 2010

Be Aware

There was a fairy 

once I knew, 

who flew

About streams

innocent & lovely 

In your hands, 

she 

couldn't help but be

Friendly, enchanting, free

Until, one day...

Pebbles 

thrown her way,

harsh judgments 

shot to screw 

Up 

her childlike 

attitude 

Oh, beware please! This loving fairy's 

messed with fanciful flights...

cause her now 

to

uncharacteristically & unavoidably...

BITE!

--Christine Kincer 2010

Just wondering...

When I think of the month of March, the color green comes right along with the thought. This happens to be the only month that I associate with a color -- well, sometimes I see yellow-orange with October.  I sometimes also have a mental image of newly budded grass on hills under a fairy-tale blue sky with maybe some clouds softly floating by.  Yet, green happens EVERY SINGLE TIME. 

March = Green. 

Interestingly enough, green does not equal March. Don't know why :/

I guess green is how I associate and label the month, as this brain operates in the categorizing function. I can only assume that it must be the Irish holiday of St. Patrick's Day that dominates the month for me like this. And perhaps, it was the bulletin boards that I grew up with in grammar school that had such a profound affect on how I still continue to mentally view the month of March. I can still see those four-leaf clovers grow in number as the days passed. Note to the teachers out there: all the hard work on those boards last a lifetime for visual students, so make them count! 

I often wonder if others use color and/or symbol association in their minds for distinguishing classification as well.  

Happy St. Patrick's Day!!