Manya Mishra Manya Mishra
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Throughout the poem my expressions were changing...on this stanza i gave a huge smile...and i thought that atlast she's got it this stanza particularly~!

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Paul Day Paul Day
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The Porcelain Fairy Doll

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And this one's for Lucy, who requested I write a Fairy Tale and whilst this is not strictly speaking a fairy tale, it is a story and is written as a narrative verse with a 2, 4 rhyming scheme.

Lucy had so many toys
All special, each unique
Bears and dolls of every kind
She took to play down by the creek

But there was one toy
More special than the others
She took it everywhere
But kept it hidden from her brothers

You see it was a fairy girl
Made of porcelain by hand
Long ago before the war
By her dear old gentle gran

Its head had hair of golden locks
And its body was so slender
Though it couldn’t return her love
She loved the toy so tender

Its clothes were made of finest silk
And its wings were made of glass
So you had to be real careful
Playing only on the grass

At night Lucy dreamed her dreams
That the fairy came to life
And the two of them together
Got into all sorts of strife

She dreamed that they were sisters
And that she had wings as well
They would fly away together
Far from the reach of hell

You see Lucy was a lonely girl
Surrounded by such strife
Because her father was always mad
For he no longer had a wife

So Lucy played so far from home
Each and every summer’s day
And at night before she slept to dream
By her bed in tears she prayed

Then one morning something happened
When she woke from her bed
The fairy doll was missing
And Lucy’s heart stopped dead

In panic did she search her room
And her brothers’ room as well
But when she threatened them to speak
They said their father went to sell

He’d taken all the toys with him
To buy some food to eat
So Lucy ran after him
Onwards down the longest street

But when Lucy reached her father
It was already far too late
And because he sold her doll that day
Poor Lucy learned to hate

She cried and cried so very long
But could never get to sleep
And when she dreamed at night this time
Her dreams gave her the creeps

Then one morning little Lucy
Decided to run away from home
She packed all her belongings
And in the country did she roam

She searched all nearby villages
She asked everyone she saw
If they had seen her porcelain doll
“A fairy,” she said, “six inches tall”

But none had seen her special doll
Or had heard of one who had
So tired she was from searching
Poor Lucy was so very sad

Then exhausted she did fall asleep
Beside a special wishing well
After she tossed her last penny in
To the ringing of the midnight bell

Her dreams were very different
As beside the well she slept
She dreamed her mother standing near
And in her arms the doll she kept

She woke to hear a distant call
From deep down in the well
She leant over the edge of it
And let out a tentative, fearful yell

“Is anybody down there?
Answer if you can hear”
But something strange was happening
And it made her spirit fear

She turned to see her mother there
So tall and ghostly white
If she hadn’t recognised her
Lucy would have died of fright

She ran towards her mother
With her hands out wide
And leapt into her ghostly arms
And wept and sobbed and cried

Then Lucy woke again
Still crying from her dream
It seemed all hope was lost
As she let out an agonising scream

But as poor Lucy cried there
Curled up into the shape of a bell
She heard the distant cry again
Still coming from the well

She chanced another look
And saw something shining there
As it floated to the surface
Lucy could only stop and stare

In disbelief she fetched it
With a branch she found nearby
So carefully she pulled it up
And wiped it till the doll was dry

She had no way of knowing
How the fairy fell into the water
But she was sure her mother
Had sent a message to her daughter 1 comment

When Lucy finally came back home
Her father was concerned
And he cried tears of great regret
For the punishment he’d earned

To have his daughter missing
Brought pain he could not stand
And he had sent his two sons out
To search all the surrounding land

So grateful was her father
That the doll was now returned
He made a promise to Lucy
That his lesson he had learned

Now when Lucy dreams at night
That she can fly like fairies do
Her mother is there with them both
For she is forever flying too

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