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    Fae Dreams
    Fae Dreams
    Fae Dreams
    Ebook224 pages1 hour

    Fae Dreams

    By Fae Corps Publishing, Andrew McDowell, Anthony Webster and

    ()

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    About this ebook

    Poetry, Art and stories relating to a Theme. The theme of Goals, Dreams, and Plans.

     

    Goals, Dreams, and Hopes are always worth reaching for.

    This is a collection of Dreams. May it help you to find Yours.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherFae Corps Publishing
    Release dateNov 6, 2020
    ISBN9781393606666
    Fae Dreams
    Author

    Fae Corps Publishing

    A relatively new Indie Publisher, Fae Corps is all about helping the Indie Author find the magic in their art.. We are the authors and the small storytellers. We are all about helping the new and struggling authors to be seen.

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      Book preview

      Fae Dreams - Fae Corps Publishing

      image0001

      By

      Fae Corps Inc

      ©2020 Fae Corps Publishing

      Editors: Cyndi Pilcher/Patricia Harris

      All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form

      or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage

      and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the authors.

      The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

      This book is a work of poetry, prose, and art. Any similarity between the characters and situations

      within its pages and places or persons, living or dead, is unintentional and co-incidental.

      Goals, dreams, and hopes are always worth reaching for.

      This is a collection of Dreams. May it help you to find Yours.

      Foreword

      We at Fae Corps Inc are all about teaching the Indie author about how to find the magic in their own stories. Part of that is having Goals, Plans, and Dreams. This anthology is filled with so much talent, and many dreams. Including the dreams of you the reader. If you enjoy, please consider leaving a review. This helps us to get this book seen, and it also encourages those within to keep writing.

      Dedications

      Rose J. Fairchild

      For my family and their support of me chasing my dreams.

      Deedra Nichole

      to my loving family and wonderful friends

      Patricia Harris

      For those who doubt themselves, This is your push to keep going!

      Table Of Contents

      OEBPS/images/image0002.pngOEBPS/images/image0003.jpgOEBPS/images/image0004.png

      Decisions first appeared in

      Green Ink Poetry’s Collection 4: Cross Roads

      Canvas first appeared in

      Ariel Chart: International Literary Journal

      Embracing You

      So blind,

      I wish I could see further than my own nose.

      Thank God for mirrors.

      Reflections,

      psychological assessments,

      without which I would doubt

      my own sanity.

      My competence in so many

      areas of life —

      My life.

      How horrible to feel

      incompetent

      in your own skin.

      Your very own flesh and blood,

      spittle, piss and poop.

      All remnants

      of your psyche.

      All of it a part of you.

      No escaping,

      only embracing

      You.

      Your Wings

      I’m a little mad at you

      for thinking I could do this,

      but really only a little,

      ‘cause you know me better

      than I know myself.

      Good guides,

      cherish the thought,

      the pumpkin smell

      of your heart,

      the warm cinnamon

      smell of your goodness,

      the light touch of

      your wings.

      Dust Bunnies

      Enclosed by space on

      all sides

      Carpet stinging the torn

      flesh on my legs

      Butter (not margarine)

      oozing from between

      the cracks where cuticle

      meets nail

      Hunger sated, I write

      poetry while staring at

      dust bunnies

      on the floor

      of my room.

      Canvas

      Such a large canvas and no thought

      what to do with it

      How to fill it

      How to make it bleed

      running, running

      ideas and widgets of the mind

      cycling, swimming

      performing any kind of action but

      writing

      denying and fleeing

      leaving the emptiness behind

      the unempty emptiness

      emptiness of a heart

      no longer full

      of

      love

      Decisions

      Decisions, decisions

      which ones to make

      which ones to break

      free from

      shirking responsibility

      fleeing from gullibility

      never hoping for too much

      perhaps expecting too little

      freedom only ever a few paces away

      I stay put

      waiting

      debating

      accepting defeat before the feat

      but always that one little hope

      burns bright

      I follow the dim light.

      OEBPS/images/image0005.png

      The Train Whistle

      Hear the whistle blow loud and clear

      Followed with that clickety-clack

      As clouds billow from a smokestack

      Such a sight for both eye and ear

      That draws children from far and near

      Gathered together by the track

      Hear the whistle blow

      When late and it is still not here

      Despair and depart with the pack

      Else remain and be repaid back

      With patience the train comes here

      Hear the whistle blow

      Dreaming

      All my life I’ve felt utterly alone.

      But as I dream whenever the night falls,

      What’s void is filled as this angel has flown.

      For the warmth in her heart to my own calls;

      Like a goddess arisen from the sea,

      The sight dispels all misery and woe.

      While in my dreams my heart and soul are free,

      Away from which I never wish to go

      Can one’s own heartfelt dreams ever come true?

      Long I’ve waited for that moment to come.

      But with each approach of the morning dew,

      I return to reality so glum.

      I must continue to dream ever deep.

      Still my love lives only while I sleep.

      Crossing the Estuary

      It was next to a narrow estuary by the sea that the young mouse lived. Often, he would come out of his little, sandy hole to look across the flowing water. He had never been to the other side and often wished he could.

      He had only ventured once or twice down to the water’s edge for the fear of hawks and other predators swooping down and capturing him for food. It was on one particular sunset, a time when the hawks retired and the owls began to hunt, that the mouse traveled down to the

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