|
|
|
Sparks
|
|

Famous Pixies



|
 |
|
Gnome Stories 1
Gnome Stories 2

MARLA
Marla is my favorite fairy. Even though she's quite contrary Sneaking, taking my Pixie
Trick books. I get them back once she takes a look. She said "Tracey West who is that?" I said the best
author and that is that!
Savannah M

I Know A Girl
I know a girl who's meek and shy. I know a girl who wants to cry. I know a girl whose confidence
is dead. I know her cuz she lives in my head.
She hides behind a mask... A mask that's always worn. In
the stillness of the night She reveals her soul is torn.
Her face is pale, her skin is cold. Her eyes are
deep...her story unfolds. Her hair tattered...her clothes are worn She laughs at a petty crown of thorns.
She
is her only enemy. Herself is the one she hates. Behind this mask she'll always stay... In hopes that herself
will go away.
By: Celtic Pixie
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
Elf Stories and Pixie Tales
Faery Story 1

Pixie Stories (page 1)
Pixie Stories (page 2)

THE PIXIE SKY
I lay in my cozy bed one night, I looked at the stars that
were shining so bright. Then all of them seemed to come alive, I looked at them with big, round eyes. They flew to
the window and landed on the ledge, I thought that they might fall off the narrow edge. I did not really know what they
were, Or whether they were his or hers. They wore dresses made of rose petals too, They had wings that sparkled gold
and blue. They were all beautiful, so pretty and fair, They swirled and twirled around in the air. I wished that
I could fly around with them, But I couldn't ever not later or then. And that is when I discovered what they were, They
were pixies I was sure.
Katie M

|
 |
|
|
|
 |
 |
|
 |
|
To a Gnome
(A red, red nose) 1794
O my Gnome is like a red, red nose, That's newly blown in June: O my Gnome is like a
melodie, Play'd slightly out of tune.
As fair art thou, my bonnie Gnome, So deep in love am I;
And I will love thee still, my dear, Till I eat this Mutton Pie.
Till I eat this Mutton Pie, my
dear, And the Dumplin's on the hob; And I will luve thee still, my dear, Or my name isn't Bob.
Or
my name isn't Bob, my Luve! So fare-thee-weel, a while! And I'll be
back again, my Luve, Tho' it's really not my style!
Elves' Land

|
|