fairies - quotes and descriptions to inspire creative writing
The fairy wings were soft as petals and coloured just as gay. They fluttered like confetti, swirling in the only gentle "tornado" the world can ever know. As they dance in their airborne way the breeze takes on a floral fragrance, one to send the mind into a heady stupor - the kind enjoyed on late summer afternoons.
The fairies sing their magic into the air, a magic that heals just for the listening. No man need know the meaning of the words, only to sit and let the melody take him to places of love and laughter. That is their power, their gift unto the world.
Fairies are those of pure heart, those given magic by the creator to help them survive. They are timid, seeking to hide as their first means of protection. A long time ago they tried to help mankind, to teach us to be more like them... yet experience taught them to stay well away - there was money to be made in their capture and extortion. These days the fairy folk hide in plain sight, walking among us - for fairies are not small as once believed. They have arisen many times from our common ancestors and can be of any appearance. Should you ever find one you have a choice to become a guardian of their kind or an enemy. Should you choose the former the first rule is "Never let them know that you know," even to seek confirmation would sent the fairy into a panic.
Like the moth the fairy closes her wings, a neat fold of cyan behind her tiny frame. She steps forward over the wood of the verandah, her footfalls lost beneath the chirping of the cicadas. Her skin is the colour of Mom's morning latte yet her hair is almost translucent, glowing white in the moonlight.
The only difference between a fairy and a dark witch is your intentions. Come as friend and we treat you as brother, as sister. Come to cheat or harm and we will treat you as an enemy. So you see, what you think we are really depends on you.
Little women who tie flowers to their small hips and leaves on their chests. Whose hair is fair and light. Whose wings are that of bees and flies that were sewn painfully into their spines. The caterpillars that crawl and never change have lost their wings to the little women. They didn't paint their faces, but there was no need, for they were beautiful all their own. They liked to sing with voices only children could hear. They offer flowers, coins, and sweets, from which they have smuggled from others, only so they could make friends. In the light they were bright and pretty, but in the shadows, they were dark and beautiful. Weird little women they were. So nice, yet mean because they had a love for the living, and an adoration for the dead.
The magic of the astonishing beautiful fairies, made the flowers around them blossom in their everyday glory. Color and happiness radiated from their smiling faces as they rushed around their forest in search of animals to help or plants to revive. I loved to be able to hear the flowing of their music as it calmed my senses and brought me to their reality.
We are the fairies, neither friend nor foe. We can bless you with magical healing, for we are already blessed that way. Yet we are cautious to do so. There is a reason you cannot do as we do - your kind isn't trusted with "The Gift." Perhaps if you were to stop killing Mother Earth the creator will make you more like us, we don't know. You won't ever find us and should you take one of us there is no ransom - only eternal distrust of your kind.
The fairies were elven in facial features, celtic in coloration and had lithe thin limbs. The moved as if they were only made of water, flowing more than they walked. Every sound they made was more haunting than pipe music, more entrancing than a harp. They were of the Earth and deeply bound to her, their folklore built around their natural habitats and the magic that flowed in their veins.