Category Archives: fairy

The ‘Volcano Sistas’

Watching the grand kids at play is a wonderful experience at moments when our life needs a little excitement, don’t you think?  Back to pretend land and the fascination of our youth.  Have a great day!

The ‘Volcano Sistas’

Though four, they wander like most youngsters do
and you wonder just what is about to ensue,
when two little minds are playing their games
in faraway places…. only they know the names.

Though deep in their world, they know you are there
watching them play from your nice, comfy chair,
and ever so often they’ll give you a glance,
then return to their ‘place’ in a fairy-like dance.


They talk in strange voices of differing pitch
befitting of fairies or a wicked old witch.
They dress up in clothes matching each different mood
as they drink pretend tea that they’ve recently brewed.

They come up with names right out of the air;
a name that goes well with a girl in orange hair.
And they banter and barter in their magical play
in the faraway places…. they go to each day.

When it’s time to interrupt ‘cause their lunch time is near,
they freeze for a moment, not completely cohere.
Each differently thinking of what they should do
then hand-in-hand dance…. through fairy portal, to you.


And when you address them and call them by name
a mistake you have made and they’re quick to exclaim
they’ve come from far places and rode many twistas
and they’re not Jude and Zoe….they’re the ‘Volcano Sistas.’

© copyright 2013  t. j. gargano

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Filed under beauty, dolls, dream, fairy, fairy tale, Family, Friends, God, grandchildren, heart, kids, Life, Love, mental health, mind, people, poetry, young girls

Fairy Rescue

Personally, I think it is good to mix a little of one’s self into one’s kind of flattery –   create a little doubt, mix a little fantasy into the reality mix.  We have to be a little dizzy once in a while since were spinning around the sun at roughly 67,000 miles per hour.  hehe    Have a great day!!

So, I’m Not Right

I saw her lying by the road
all ‘puddled’  by the rain
and standing by her was a toad
up leaning on a cane
cautiously looking all around
to see just who would come
saying something I could not hear
o’er the beating drum
that now had just begun to beat
in tones I barely heard
as noisy leaves fell on my feet
as squeals came from a bird
swooping down now where she lays
close to the thrusting cane
the toad is waving aimlessly
scowling with disdain.

The darkness of the misty morn’
can’t hide the loudening drum
as fairies come from the field of corn;
the drum beat now a 
They wave away her guardian knight
and lift her on a leaf
and away they fly in the misty dawn
taking my belief.
There’s always someone standing by
to tell you, you’re not right
when using words that seem to lie
making others feel uptight.
It’s not that you are being bad
but it’s scary ‘cause you’re bold
after all, there might be an ounce of truth
in the story you just told.

© copyright 2013  t. j. gargano

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Filed under dream, fairy, fairy tale, fog, heart, Love, mind, people, poetry, trees, wildlife

Winter Stream

Winter Stream

The wintry wind has brought the snow; the trees are bare and lost their glow;
absent is the 
hearkening starling’s song.
The summer’s warmth is high and thin, the summer geese have left, again
  the bright and cheery grasp of summer, gone.

I walk along the bubbling stream covered in snow like shaving cream;
  the bottom rocks now blackened to my eye.
the sound of swishing in the trees is like a murmur in the breeze
  sparrows noisily fighting,  passing by.

Along this stream in summer time, I like to sit with rested mind
  up against a cottonwood and gaze
far beyond the water’s edge, up the hill and past the hedge
  at fields of corn and ripened wheat, ablaze

in the soaking rays of the summer sun; those lazy days stacked full of fun
  that make the imagination come alive
like when I saw a fairy, who,  blended with the water’s hue
  and danced in tune with a beautiful dragonfly.

I stop and reach down for a rock and throw and skip it toward a block
  of logs out in the middle of the stream
jammed up high like a superdome built by beavers for a home
  as we all await another summer dream.

(third stanza reference to my poem, ‘Cottonwood Stream’  January, 2012)
(fourth stanza reference to my poem, ‘Fairy Jolie’  January, 2012)

© copyright 2013 t. j. gargano

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Filed under dragonfly, dream, fairy, geese, Hawk, snow, winter

Fairy Fall

Feeling whimsical today….

Fairy Fall

She stood behind the leaf on the branch above the knot
on the tree trunk, near the river where he fished and where he got
bitten by the dog that had come from down the road
from the farm that raised the chickens, he had learned of when it snowed
last winter….a month before the thaw.

She watched him as he cleaned his hand and bandaged it up tight
in shadows through the morning mist in the coolness of the light.
that slithered down between the trees and fell upon the ground
and splashed along the water’s edge, hitting all it found
as she watched him pause at what he saw.

She was sure he didn’t see her but his gaze was firm….her way
and she peeked beneath the moistened leaf and gasped at the spray
that drenched her hair down to her toes and made her wings to stick
and she lost her balance and hit the ground…. with a spark and light and click
so loud that she was sure….that he knew.

She moved with caution ‘round the tree as he started to walk her way
and the birds all started whistling loud and the fish began to play
and caught his attention and he froze in time, then turned and went on back
and got his pole that was lying there…. against the sleeping bag and black
dog that now seemed harmlessly…..’blue.’

A fairy has to watch her ways, yet learn of all she can
but safety is the fairy thing; that is the fairy plan.
And knowing she was lucky; she watches from afar
as he pats the dog with his bandaged hand and chews on his cigar
and casts his pole across the blaze of morn’.

© copyright 2012  t. j. gargano

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Filed under dream, fairy, fairy tale

“Fairy Hill”

The fog was thick this morning, playing its usual tricks on eyes and minds that weren’t seeing what they usually see.

Sometimes you see ‘other’ things in the fog or on its other side.  Have you noticed how your senses re-act when normal conditions in a certain space are altered  –  like driving to town and it’s blacked out….an eerie feeling enters your mind and body….the norm is not….fear alerts you.

Driving in fog that is up to your windshield is breathtakingly scary…it nearly immobilizes you.  We don’t know what we see….we sometimes try to help our eyes by guessing or thinking we see something….our mind races, knowing not where it’s going or from where it’s  coming…. everything is ‘clouded.’  We fear ‘checkmate.’

Fairy Hill

Foggy mornings, “they’ll”  sometimes show
and if you look real hard, you will see the glow
through the inner logs at the base of the hill,
and don’t be surprised if “one” flies around
and checks the perimeter from the top on down.

One morning I saw her, on the ground, near the road
singing and dancing in a puddle, for a toad,
who didn’t  seem that interested; more bothered, I’d say
‘cause he wanted a drink and she wanted to dance
and wanted him to watch her, though it was taking a chance.

But the next thing I saw was her backing up slow
and pointing her finger at the toad, to go
and get a drink and then get out
‘cause she wanted to get back in and finish her song
which she did, and she waved, as the toad got along.

Then I saw what was fire, at the base of the hill,
and out came a fairy in a bright colored twill
outfit, that glistened and shined so brightly, it blinded
me and when I could see again , there must have been ten
fairies dancing and playing ‘round the puddle, by then.

And, as usual, my camera was too far away
and I thought I saw, Jolie, who I saw that day
when she danced and frolicked to the dragonfly’s beat,
then flew towards the sun when I ran to the stream
perchance to get closer to this recurring dream.

The screech sound was eerie from the hawk up high
who angled down sharply, down from the sky,
toward the puddle, by the road, where the fairies all danced,
now scurrying around quickly to dress and to dry
for their wings that, if wet, won’t allow them to fly.

But then what I saw, I didn’t see any more
for the fog now had thickened right down to the floor
of grass that surrounded the logs on the pile.
And even the puddle, full of life, now was still
and everyone was safe again…. out on Fairy Hill.

copyright © 2012 T.J. Gargano


Filed under fairy, fog

Fairy Jolie

I dodge again the real world  – full of terror and killings and strong ‘negative portions’ in the news headlines and I opt for a walk down, back along the stream, where the sounds are of frogs and crickets and birds and rippling water over some lazy rocks, just sitting there, shiny smooth.

If I were a fairy, that’s where I’d go…..but who knows, maybe every fairy’s different.

Fairy Jolie

Sitting on a root ‘neath a large oak tree
down along the stream, at the bottom of the hill,
she sat all alone, sobbing, drinking grass tea
sitting on a root ‘neath a large oak tree.
I hid in the grass as she tangled with a bee
who quickly left,  leaving her still
sitting on a root ‘neath  a large oak tree
down along the stream,  at the bottom of the hill.

Standing up now and looking around,
her eyes gazing straight across the stream.
She’s a wisp in the wind, nary a pound,
standing up now and looking around.
What should I do in this moment, profound?
I don’t want to scare away this dream,
standing up now and looking around
her eyes gazing straight across the stream.

Dancing o’er the reflection, down in the stream
splashing the water with her feet,
her pointed ears turn to the flash of a beam
dancing o’er the reflection, down in the stream.
Cautiously panning, each move is a scheme
still daintily fluttering to a dragonfly’s beat.
Dancing o’er the reflection, down in the stream
splashing the water with her feet.

Waving at the dragonfly then flying towards the sun
where I watched her ‘til my eyes couldn’t see,
I ran down to the water where I saw her having fun
waving at the dragonfly then flying towards the sun.
The dragonfly, still ‘dancing’ there, I swear, said she would come
to dance -just whisper her name, though, nevermore have I seen, Jolie,
waving at the dragonfly then flying towards the sun
where I watched her ‘til my eyes couldn’t see

copyright © 2012 T.J. Gargano


Filed under dragonfly, fairy, poetry, rivers

Cottonwood Stream

If I write a song for you
and speak of beauty rare
the words I use will all be true
if I write a song for you.
Each word will tell a different view
and paint a picture soft and fair
if I write a song for you
and speak of beauty rare.

Sitting by the lazy stream
leaning ‘gainst the cottonwood
my guitar grabs a sunlight  beam
sitting by the lazy stream
and in that moment, as in a dream
she fluttered in time to my Brazilian wood
Sitting by the lazy stream
leaning ‘gainst the cottonwood

It’s nice down here along the stream
on spring like days when she drops by
and even if it’s just a dream,
it’s nice down here along the stream.
and while I know, it’s quite extreme
her mystic beauty, I can’t deny
It’s nice down here along the stream
on spring like days when she drops by

Waking me gently with fluttering wing
brushing her self ‘cross my eye,
she winks and smiles from the guitar string
waking me gently with fluttering wing.
And I feel thankful for these days of spring
and for dreams and for her….the butterfly
waking me gently with fluttering wing
brushing her self  ‘cross my eye.

copyright © 2012 T.J. Gargano

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Filed under fairy, heart, rivers


It’s said that seeing is believing.  But we know that isn’t always true.  Illusionists prove that.  Trick photography proves that.

And too, it is expected of us to believe in ‘things’ we can’t see.  A good example might be the air we breathe.

So in many aspects of life, we, as individuals, have to choose whether or not to believe in something.  Some of those things might be important and others, may not be as important.

A case in point might be angels, demons or other forces in the non-reality dimensions of our minds.  Then we might ask…if there are angels then are there demons?  or aliens? or UFOs? or ghosts? ………….or…….fairies?


Though I detect that she is near,
I see not yet her fluttering heart
between each drooping willow tear,
though I detect that she is near.
I’ll keep on searching without fear
until I find some little part.
Though I detect that she is near,
I see not yet her fluttering heart.

Though, it’s said they don’t exist,
And maybe that is so,
I know that one day… I was kissed
though, it’s said they don’t exist.
And yet I saw her, through the mist,
fly up and wink and go.
Though, it’s said they don’t exist
and maybe that is so

On days I go down to that stream
to where the fairy came,
I lay down there, perchance to dream,
on days I go down to that stream.
And while I know, it seems extreme,
I’ll keep on looking without shame,
on days I go down to that stream
to where the fairy came.

copyright © 2012 T.J. Gargano


Filed under fairy