The Faery Queen

Wings of finest gossamer that sparkled as she flew,
Silken robes that shimmered brightly in the morning dew.
Pearls of sunlight on the early morning sunlit leaves.
I gazed in admiration at her beauty as her faery spell she weaved.

I stood and watched with joy, and felt again, just like a little boy.
Her singing touched my heart and played with it as if it were a toy.
One fleeting glance and I was hers, I shyly reached to take her hand.
She took me far away to share her native land.

I can not remember any nights or any days.
Just the endless revelry and all the games we played.
It seemed to last all summer long, then I awoke and she was gone,
But in that single dream, I found that fifty years had gone.

Where are those middle years I planned to spend in quiet company?
Where are the friends and family that filled my life with comfort and delight?
There's no one left to fill my final years with joviality.
A lifetime passed away within a single day and night.

Patrick W Kavanagh  01/07/2013
Art by Bill Oliver 

https://soundcloud.com/patrick-kavanagh-3/the-fairy-queen-2

Winter Fae

The winter has been long and cold, and springtime still seems very far away.

I sit here snuggled in the warmth and dream about my childhood, and the fae.

How I miss glowing embers, underneath the flaming sods of turf that fed our fire.

When I used to sit in quiet contemplation as the faeries fed my hearts desire.

Dancing gaily through the woodlands, mirrored in the phosphorescent world of smoke and flame.

Faerie troopers marched across the gleaming forests edged with crimson and with gold.

Carriages of purest white, and silver reins upon the coal black shires that proudly cantered by.

Horsemen dressed in silver armour, prancing as they raised their glistening lances to the sky.

Then the Faery Queen,- magnificent in sparkling gown, she turned and waved to me.

Her wings like delicate, translucent butterflies, that fluttered blue against the ruby trees.

I cannot think of any other joy as sweet as this, my fondest childhood memory,

Though fifty years have past since then, it lingers still, as fresh and clear to me.

Every word I place upon the page brings childhood's wonder closer to my mind.

All the joys and mysteries that, for a little while, I thought that I had left so far behind.

Join me now and let us gaze upon the embers hand in hand with our own inner eyes.

The perhaps we both can sleep, and dream of meadows filled with sprightly flowers,

And cloudless sunny skies.

Patrick W Kavanagh 28/01/2015

Art by: Bill Oliver boysoblue.com

Boy So Blue Graphic Arts and photography

Away for Christmas

The Christmas tree lights up, - but you are gone so very far away

And yet, somehow, I feel your hand, so softly clasping mine.

I catch your fragrance in the air, and know that you are near.

And feel the warmth of memories that come so fresh and clear,

I sense your presence, though my heart is aching and my tears will burn,

And as we place the presents underneath the tree, I hold a certainty inside, that someday, somehow you will finally return.

I will put away all thoughts of sadness, for the sake of those whom I hold dear.

For, even in our darkest hour, there is a Light that shines with love for those for whom we care.

Hearts that love the way we love can never really be apart,

Hearts that hope beyond all hope will have their hopes fulfilled one day.

This has always been loves law, and this has always been love's way.

And I will wait, until my waiting days, and all my waiting years, have passed away.

I will hold you safe within my heart, and we will meet again,

I know that this is true, although I may not know for certain, when.

May you rest in Summer-land until our hearts are healed.

And I will hold you in my arms one day, when life's true beauty is revealed.

Patrick W Kavanagh    19/12/2015.

Art by Bill Oliver  boysoblue.com

Yuletide Dreams.

I wandered through a wonderland, where twinkling stars adorned a pale blue sky.

The moon was shyly rising, as the setting sun gazed back with fondness in his eyes.

Some gentle greens, - like soothing balm, were spread across the sleepy violet hills.

Ah! Such a land as this could be the cure for many, many ills.

The crisp clear air felt mild and calm, - despite the snowflakes speckled on the trees.

This wistful winter landscape filled my pondering mind with happiness and ease

The tiny icicles that hung from every tree were chiming with a tuneful harmony.

And childhood thoughts, of gift-filled sleighs, came tumbling back to me.

Above the frosty grass, the ghosts of many flowers were swaying gently in the wind.

They sparkled on the slender stems, like crystal memories that waited for the spring.

The tiny folk who sang so sweetly, stole my heart and bound me to this awe-inspiring place

I write this note to any who would miss me, - should I disappear, this night, without a trace.

Patrick W Kavanagh   18/12/2015

Art by Bill Oliver   boysoblue.com

The Water Nymphs

The Water Nymphs

Down beside the woodland pool, whose waters flow so clear and cool,

I took a stroll, one summer’s day, and saw the water nymphs at play.

I stopped a while, to rest and dream, along the playful little stream,

And beauty drew my eyes to where, they laughed and splashed without a care.

I dared not breathe, - my chest was tight. I crept a little closer to this unexpected sight.

In joyful sport, they flicked their tails, as sunbeams caught their rainbow scales.

My shadow fell upon the water, and these tiny mermaids turned and fled.

Then they chased the little silver bream, along the shallow sunlit, river bed.

Undeterred, I hid among the soft, green ferns, and waited patiently for their return.

The moon had gifted silver light, when they came back to settle for the night.

Beneath a moss-strewn, rocky weir, they sat and combed their sea-green hair.

I slipped into a restful dream, and wandered in a mystic world that few have ever seen.

Patrick W Kavanagh    16/12/2015

Art by Bill Oliver

The Oak King's Lament

The Oak King

Do not fear the dying of the light, for soon the woods will once more echo with delight.

Beneath the autumn’s leaves and winter’s snow, the first, faint glimmerings of spring begin to glow.

Those who live between the worlds can now be felt, as magic flows and swirls.

The distant sun will creep a little closer every day, and soon the winters chill will seem so very far away.

Your kingdom sleeps, but soon the forests and the fields will waken to your touch.

The tiny tendrils soon will stretch and wriggle, seeking out the warm spring light

The woodlands will resound to all the faery music that you love so much.

Then for a little while, the world will once again forget the long cold winter’s night.

Weep not; noble lord for soon your restless exile will be done.

The Holly King grows grey and feeble on his barren throne.

You will dance and sing once more beneath the rising springtime’s sun.

And we will light the fires to call you home when winters reign is done.

Patrick W Kavanagh 10/12/2015

Art by Bill Oliver  boysoblue.com

Angels in the Wind

Angels in the Wind

I stand and feel the wind's embrace,- as kisses, soft as feathers, touch my smiling face.

Gentle laughter, hushed as falling snow is calling,- and it leads me where I need to go.

Swirling leaves are blowing all around,-that somehow leave a gleaming trace.

But as the seasons meet within my heart, I feel a joy, an all-consuming grace.

It grieves me little now to say that all I think I know will, someday, pass away.

It does not matter that the world will turn and all my dreams may die and never be reborn.

This perfect moment is enough, within the pause between the night time and the day.

With tiny angels dancing all around in laughter and in play.

“Walk with us between the worlds and let imagination fly.

We will show that all who ever lived , will never die.

We will heal your aching heart and help you understand,

That only love can heal the world and soothe the heart of man.”

Patrick W Kavanagh 16/11/2015

Art by Bill Oliver boysoblue.com

Dance of the Faeries

Dance of the Faeries

I gaze out at the frosty winter scene from my little bubble of warmth,

The golden tint of morning touches skies of baby blue, framing trees and bushes wrapped in winter-white.

Away For Christmas

Away for Christmas

As the trees light up with hope and joy, you seem so far away
And yet I feel your hand, so softly clasping mine.
I feel the warmth of memories so fresh and clear,
and in my heart, I know that you are truly near.
Although my heart will ache and tears will burn,
I know, deep in my heart,- you will return.

As we place the presents underneath the tree,
I sense you standing next to me
Hearts that love will never really be apart,
Hearts that hope, will have their hopes fulfilled one day.
This has always been Loves law, and this has always been Love's way.
And I will wait, until my waiting days, and all my waiting years, have passed away.

I will put away all thoughts of sadness, for the sake of those who I hold dear.
Even in our darkest hour, there is a Light that shines,- the love of those for whom we care.
I will hold you safe within my heart, and we will meet again,
I know that this is true, although I may not know for certain, when.
May you rest in Summer-land until Our hearts are healed.
And I will hold you in my arms one day, when Life's true Beauty is Revealed.

Patrick W Kavanagh
15/12/2013.
Art by Bill Oliver   boysoblue.com

Down among the Lavenders

Down among the Lavenders, I watched the little people play,
As I was sitting in the garden, one delightful, summer's day.
Dragonflies were flitting by, beneath a dreamy, pale blue sky,
My eyes were filled with beauty, and my heart was filled with joy.

I never noticed how the time flew by, until the evening came,
And I was woken from my reverie by gentle summer rain.
Silver beads were trickling down the dull green leaves below the violet sprays,
And still, the little people danced and played in summer's evening haze.

How I wish, that I could have sat forever in such charming company,
The rich warm smell of rain-kissed lavender, brings back such memories.
This tale has been my secret treasure,- this past fifty years and more,
I tell it now,- for who will mock me, as I pass through summer's open door.

Build for me a little bower, so I may spend eternity beneath the Rowan tree.
For in that lovely place, so filled with natures grace, I'll find delightful company.
Those who mourn, will earn naught but my scorn, for I will soon be free
to play among the lavenders, beside the blessed Rowan tree.

Patrick W Kavanagh 11/02/2015
Art by: Bill Oliver  boysoblue.com

My Spirit Sings

Like blackbirds at the fall of evenings chill, My spirit sings.

Echoing across the stillness of the coming night, I feel it's power,- I feel it's might.

A song whose voice is older than the songs our distant forebears sung.

Booming out across the void,

Vibrating deeper than the largest bell that ever rung.

Lost in rhythm, as it;s voice is carried through my beating drum,-

My pounding heart rejoices as all worldly cares are swept away.

In the shelter of it's beat, I feel the stillness of the night throughout the clamour of the day.

The spirits of the ancients guide my fingers as I play.

In the pulsing of the drum, I hear the haunting call of Eagle as I play.

Crow is here, And as his dance begins,- my body starts to sway.

Though he never speaks,- he reaches out and opens up the vortex as the rhythm builds,

While Black-Elk draws the power of the ancients to the circling drums to heal our ills.

In this sacred place, created by the spirits of our fathers as they join our dance.

There is love and healing and the power to grab our greatest chance.

To fly to where our spirits soar, to touch again the lives we lived before,

The wisdom of the ancients, speaking in our hearts once more.

Reminding us that we can touch the joy, that once was ours, again.

That we can live in balance with the earth,

As once we did when mankind first began.

Let your temple be a tree. Live life to the full and live it free.

Badger, Elk and Owl have wisdom greater than this careworn world can see.

Open up your eyes and ears and heart.

Be healed and be all you can be.

Let all nations rise in Love and Hope to heal our Mother Earth,

And let us be the loving children, we were meant to be.

Patrick W Kavanagh

22/06/2014