FAIRYTALE DREAMS

By Ashley Allen

Dedicated to Priscilla Allen

DEDICATED TO MY MOTHER PRISCILLA ALLENI dedicate this project to you. You have been with me through a lot of hard times and no matter how hard it has been you will still be there for me and with me.

HAPPY MOTHER’S DAYHappy Mother’s day,For on this day is the day you reminisce, remembering that day when you held your baby in your arms seeing her smile.Your baby’s first steps and her tumbles and cries, picking her up and kissing her boo-boos.Sending her off to school on her first day, waving good-bye to her as she boards the bus. Watching her grow and stretch becoming a teenager, you listen to all her cries of heart break and her laughter of how her day went.Taking pictures of her first prom with her boyfriend that you absolutely do not like but accept him because she accepts him.You clap for her on her graduation day hugging and crying for her.The day you give her away to a husband that you and she enjoy. Holding her hand as she gives birth to her little bundle of joy thinking that one day she will be in your shoes Listen, watching and taking care of her little one.You smile up at your little bundle of joy, remembering the last day with her, as she hold your hand smiling down at you, tears flowing saying “Happy mother’s day”.

I have wrote this poem because one day before mother’s day, I was sitting on the couch thinking about how you have and will be going through several things in this poem and thought about how you will feel. Writing this poem has made me see how you have felt going through some of these things and I can understand how it is very hard to deal with this while still holding it together. So I sat down and thought about how you seen my first steps and heard my cries about my troubles, putting me on the bus the first day of school, and my first dance with a boy you really didn’t like but liked him anyway because I did, and when it comes time to have my own little family you will always be there when I need you. I wrote this for you so when you look back on this poem you will never forget the good and bad times we had together and how we stood them out together no matter the situation.

FAIRYTALE JOKEThis is no fairytale joke, this is life.You run away from dreams and hopes, thinking these are a fairytale joke.You cover your face wishing it all away, wishing this was not a fairytale jokeYou realize there is no prince waiting to sweep you off your feet, there is no happy ending with people dancing and singing.You sit in your bed waiting for this fairytale to start but you realize this is a fairytale joke.You get out of your bed wading through the mess, making best of a terrible day to come.This isn’t a fairytale there will be no prince at the end of the street and happy singing people dancing.This story will end with a happy ending, with a prince and singing people, this isn’t a fairytale joke.There will be people barking orders at you, stomping you into the ground but this isn’t a fairytale joke. You tell yourself this isn’t a fairytale joke, you smile skipping your way through this fairytale joke.

This poem reminds me a lot of you, there is a lot of times I see you struggle with work and taking care of two sick parents that the dreams you have seem fake and that life is nothing but a big joke but you deserve nothing less than what you truly deserve. You deserve a lot more; you have helped lots of people and go out of your way to do little stuff for your work. You think that when you move, you are giving up everything but you don’t realize that you are gaining your fairytale! You are not losing anything you are gaining, there will be a prince one day for you and there are people that will be happier for what you do for them! You get to spend more time with your family and sister and nephews, even though they get on your nerves, you still enjoy being around them. This isn’t a fairytale joke, this life you are going to make all over again and it will have a happy ending!

LITTLE PIXIE

Oh little Pixie I see how you jump from tree to tree spying and sneaking around.You ease drop in on our round about laughter and sway.You giggle at our little jokes, wondering why are these strange aliens this way.Night falls you stretch and yawn mentally waving good bye to these aliens as they tromp away.Hopping among trees making your way back to that hanging tree house.Lying upon your tiny swaying bed, you fall asleep dreaming the day away.

I wrote this poem for you because sometimes you look at others and wish you had what they have. Your still grateful for what you have, because you know that what you have is more than what these other people have. You j look at all their fancy things but know they are not for you because they are not who you are. You do a lot of great things, but they become everyday routine that you go out and look for other things even though they may be strange for you, you still do them and like doing what you do even though their alien to you. I also wrote this poem for you because I know how much you like fairy’s and happy endings. You are a really great person, you are like the little pixie, she cannot see how great the things she does but everyone else can! You might not think people see you but they do and the things you do are most appreciated!

THAT BRIGHT LIGHTWhen there are dark days a bright light shines, guiding you, leading you away from your troubles, Reach out; grab it Taking a hold onto that bright light letting it guide you to a safe place where there is happiness and joy.When there is trouble you reach out taking that bright light letting it fill you with hope, joy, and happiness Letting you know you can push and reach through the heavy darkness.Through the darkness this bright light shines, take it, and grab it.

When you are having a hard day, you forget to grab a hold of something that makes you happy, when you are having a hard day think of this poem, grab a hold of that little something that makes you happy and forget whatever is making you unhappy. Let the little light fill you and let it wash away your troubles so you can go the rest of the day without getting upset. If you get upset again just grab that light and hold on to it will give you more strength to get through it. Don’t let anybody bring you down or wash that light away keep hold of it until you’re sure you feel better don’t let it go until you are sure. Whenever you get mad take hold of that light and remember to let it go when you feel better. That light will always be there for you even if you think your alone. Hold you happy thought, mom!

SPRING HAS COMEMothers and fathers all gather around.The time to mate is now abounding.

Little ones we must make to protect our lands.Yes, this is a chore, but we know it is left in our hands.

Hear ye, Hear ye, all you plants.Time to wake, dust off the snow and spread your leaves to the warm spring sun.Let your small baby bulbs open up and receive the loving hugs that only mother sun can bestow.As you stretch higher and higher, a baby no more you will be.A beautiful strong flower, you will arise from the earth, your glowing beauty for all to see.Wake up; wake up all you dead trees.Your branches that hang so low from the harsh winter’s snowLet them rise like a mighty anthem to the warm spring glow of a bright shiny sun.

Spring into action and sprout your evergreen leaves, rejoice with all birds, bees and other trees.

Spring has come and winter has left so come on everybody lets enjoy it atlas.

I wrote this poem for you because I know how much you look forward to spring every year; how the flowers bloom and the birds chirp and how people take their dog out with them for a walk. How you like the sun beams and the trees that sway with the wind, it might rain every now and again, but you still look forward to spring every year. I wrote this poem according to what you look forward to every spring. You like how the stray cats pounce about the street playing and tackling each other in the street, coming by our house giving us presents and how the lilacs bloom near grams house and the daffodils bloom near our house. So I hope you like this little poem about spring that I wrote for you and hope you enjoy every spring from now till forever.

FANTASY BY GWENDOLYN BENNETT

I sailed in my dreams to the Land of NightWhere you were the dusk-eyed queen,And there in the pallor of moon-veiled lightThe loveliest things were seen... A slim-necked peacock sauntered thereIn a garden of lavender hues,And you were strange with your purple hairAs you sat in your amethyst chairWith your feet in your hyacinth shoes. Oh, the moon gave a bluish lightThrough the trees in the land of dreams and night.I stood behind a bush of yellow-greenAnd whistled a song to the dark-haired queen...

The Gwendolyn Bennett’s poem Fantasy, she uses two special techniques in her poem. First, the imagery of the poem puts us in the garden room of a queen. She is “sitting in her amethyst chair” with her “hyacinth shoes.” The poem also takes place at night in a dream. “I sailed in my dreams to the land of night” and “there in the pallor of moon-veiled light.” Second, the tone of this poem possibly relates to a young shy lover. “I stood behind a bush of yellow-green and whistled a song to the dark-haired queen. Finally, Gwendolyn Bennett also uses a Shakespearean Rhyming scheme. At the end of the poem is a couplet, “yellow-green” and “dark-haired queen.”

I picked this poem for you because you always speak in a way that uses a lot of imagery. Even when you go to work you dress in many colors. When you take care of your clients your shy at first then you open up and all you work with seem to open up to you. Most of your clients are at night and I know you make them comfortable before you leave. I’ve heard you many times say “sweet dreams.”

FABLE BY RALPH WALDO EMERSONThe mountain and the squirrel Had a quarrel; And the former called the latter ‘Little Prig.’ Bun replied, ‘You are doubtless very big; But all sorts of things and weather Must be taken in together, To make up a year And a sphere. And I think it no disgrace To occupy my place. If I'm not so large as you, You are not so small as I, And not half so spry. I'll not deny you make A very pretty squirrel track; Talents differ; all is well and wisely put; If I cannot carry forests on my back, Neither can you crack a nut.’

 This poem is about a mountain and a squirrel. The

mountain thinks he is much more important than the squirrel. The mountain calls the squirrel a “little prig,” which means self-righteous or irritating manner. The squirrel tells the mountain he is very big but even though the squirrel is small he is still just as important. The two perform important jobs. “If I’m not so large as you, you are not so small as I.” Sometimes, mom, I have heard you say that your job is not important. What you do is little compared to what other people do. Your clients depend on you to help them with everything in their lives; otherwise they would not be able to stay in their homes. I know you love this poem and also the writer of it. You might just think you’re the squirrel, but in you client’s eyes and mine you are a mighty mountain. I know I would not have been able to complete school if it had not been you who helped me and encouraged me through it.

TO MY MOTHER BY ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON

You too, my mother, read my rhymesFor love of unforgotten times,And you may chance to hear once moreThe little feet along the floor.

Robert Louis Stevenson wrote this poem especially for his mom. This was his first poem he dedicated it to her. Stevenson thought this poem was short and unimportant, but his mom encouraged him to keep on trying. His passion was poetry. He wrote many poems to her about the “love of unforgotten times.” His memories of those times encouraged him to write more “and she may chance to hear once more.” His poem starts out “you too, my mother, read my rhymes.” Stevenson knew his mom was his greatest critic. You are my greatest critic and that is why I rely on you to help me proof read and give me hints on how I can make my writing and poems better. He listened to her advice about his poems. Others might have thought this poem short and bland, but not his mother and Stevenson appreciated that input, just like I appreciate your input, my sweet mom and mentor. The poems I have written to you are poems that target what you like. Each poem pinpoints ideas, scenery, tone and imagery that you enjoy. When I said “Oh, I can’t do this.” You told me to take a break and come back and take a fresher look at it. You never let me quit. I tried again and the ideas did come to me in a richer and fresher way. I write my poems of “love of unforgotten times.”

THE LAND OF NOD BY ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON

From Breakfast on through all the dayAt home among my friends I stay,But every night I go abroadAfar into the land of Nod. All by myself I have to go,With none to tell me what to do--All alone beside the streamsAnd up the mountain-sides of dreams. The strangest things are there for me,Both things to eat and things to see,And many frightening sights abroadTill morning in the land of Nod. Try as I like to find the way,I never can get back by day,Nor can remember plain and clearThe curious music that I hear

This poem by Robert Louis Stevenson is full of imagery, a general theme of dreaming and a scene that takes place in yet another dream. The writer is bored with his real life, he states “From Breakfast on through all the day At home among my friends I stay”, but when he lays his head down to rest he visits a place that holds “both things to eat and things to see” some are “frightening” and something’s are “curious”. Even though this place is strange to him, it is calming and no matter how hard “try as I like to find the way, I never can get back by day.” When he wakes up he goes back to his humdrum life and wishes he could stay “In the land of nod”.

I remember you reading this poem to me when I was young. When I was scared and would have a bad dream and could not get back to sleep, you would say “think of The Land of Nod”. I knew that land was not scary because you explained this poem to me. It helped me get to sleep at night. When I was working on this dedication to you I had to put this poem in my works because I know you would appreciate it. After all these years I still remember “The Land of Nod.”

THE NURSE BY MICHAEL BLUMENTHAL

Now come the purple garments, now the white;Now move the vagrant beds among the disinfected halls;Now stretch the opaque hose between the antiseptic rooms:I waken: and she looks at me. Now droops the freshly propped-up pillow like a ghost,And like a ghost she sets it right for me. Now lie the intravenous tubules by the door,And all the body's ills stare openly at me. Now drifts the slim physician on, and leavesHis clipboard hanging like a thought in front of me. Now folds the young nurse all her aprons up,And slips her lovely bosom in a waiting car:And so desire folds itself as well, and slipsInto my arms, and then is lost in me.

The poem “The Nurse” by Michael Blumenthal fits you like a well-worn smock, mom. Mr. Blumenthal captures the perfect picture of a nurse who is on duty at a hospital. He shows several images to prove this point: white garments, disinfected halls, antiseptic rooms, intravenous tubules and slim physicians. All these images would be seen in a patients room. He sets the theme of a nurse going to work, doing her days work, then getting into the car to go home. “The young nurse all her aprons up” , “slips her lovely bosom in a waiting car” show her leaving her shift to go home for the night. A sad tone can be felt in this poem. Many patients miss the nurse who waits on them. “Into my arms, and then is lost to me.”

Mom, I think you know why I picked this poem for you. The imagery, tone and theme fit you and what you have done all these years. Not only do I rely on you but many of you clients miss you when you are not with them. I know you are giving up a lot when we move after grad, and I know your clients will miss you greatly, but I want to let you know I appreciate you and the sacrifice you are about to make.

BIBLIOGRAPHYAll images by Ashley Allen; May 18, 2013.

Fable by Ralph Waldo Emerson; www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/MID/20160; May 10, 2013.

Fairytale Joke by Ashley Allen; may 11th, 2013.

Fantasy by Gwendolyn Bennett; www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/MID/19693; May 10, 2013.

Little Pixie by Ashley Allen; May 6, 2013.

Mother’s Day by Ashley Allen; May 12, 2013.

Spring Has Come by Ashley Allen; April 1st, 2013.

The Land Of Nod by Robert Louis Stevenson; www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/MID/15242; May 10, 2013.

The Nurse by Michael Blumenthal; www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/MID/22425; May 10,2013.

That Bright Light by Ashley Allen; May 12, 2013.

To My Mother by Robert Louis Stevenson; www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/MID/19660; may 10, 2013.