I’m convinced that faeries live here
It is hidden ’twixt the feather-light
Sprigs and deadly thin thorn bushes
That drape around the pool, blinding
One realm from another.
The pool sits like a mirror
But I don’t see myself peering
Into the metallic basin
Two steps beneath my feet because
There only exist the trees.
I hear the wind beyond the barbs
At my back, beyond the entrance
I stumbled upon but I feel
No breeze between my fingertips
In this timeless find of mine.
The sun is broken by shards of
Twigs and leafy limbs that arc above
My head and descend in spiralled
Tendrils that I can almost reach
And twine around my wrists.
Would they carry me to the dwelling
Where fairies trap our tempted souls
Just beyond the reach of lucidity
Beneath the pool’s façade?
by Poppy Jennings