THE FAIRY DOOR
A tiny red door
waits in the roots,
hidden deep
in the green quiet.
It looks harmless,
bright and small,
as if childhood
painted it gently.
But I feel eyes
behind the wood,
breathing softly
in the still air.
Leaves tremble
when I lean close,
as if warning me
not to knock.
The round window
glows faintly,
catching shadows
I cannot explain.
Something whispers
inside the bark,
a faint voice
calling my name.
I reach forward
with careful hands,
feeling the pull
of old magic.
Stories gather
around my feet,
ancient and thin
as drifting dust.
Every fairy door
hides a choice,
a quiet opening
to the unknown.
I sense footsteps
on the other side,
small and certain
in the dimness.
I hear breathing
close to the cracks,
soft as a secret
waiting to rise.
If I open it,
the world may shift,
and something wild
may step through.
So I stay still,
heart trembling,
because some doors
were made to tempt.
And in the quiet,
the red circle glows,
alive with dreams
and darker things.
About the Creator
Marie381Uk
I've been writing poetry since the age of fourteen. With pen in hand, I wander through realms unseen. The pen holds power; ink reveals hidden thoughts. A poet may speak truth or weave a tale. You decide. Let pen and ink capture your mind❤️
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Comments (1)
This is a poem that will have us wonder if our dreams are true and/or false. Good job.