Phoenix

Flaming feathers and healing tears,
Golden tails and magic songs,
The Phoenix is the bird that reduces all fears,
And is found in Egyptian tombs, Indian mountains, and Chinese gongs.

It never meets death, it just bursts into fire,
And rises from its ashes to start another life.
This noble bird will never serve a thief or a liar,
Or one who slaughters others, by hand or a knife.

Scarlet blurs dive through the sky,
And soothing notes they’re singing.
More fantastic creatures take wing and fly,
As they hear the red bird’s ringing.

Dark souls and Dark Lords flee,
The hunters are now struck by fear,
As the legendary swan-like creature comes to subdue thee,
With it’s beautiful figure drawing near.

Graceful birds, the Phoenixes are,
But don’t be fooled by what you see,
They can lift heavy loads and deliver them far,
That can include both you and me.

Loyal pets and magnificent creatures,
Beady eyes and herbs as prey.
Red feathers and golden features,
Spread relief throughout the day.

And when the animal rests on its favorite tree limb,
Or cage, or bedpost, or mountain peak,
It sleeps on it claws, both sharp and nimb,
Always strong and never weak.

Even thought it never will kill,
Phoenixes have their own mind,
And control their own will.
So a few scratches may leave an assaulter blind.

Flaming feathers and healing tears,
Golden tails and magic songs,
The Phoenix is the bird the reduces all fears,
And is found in Egyptian tombs, Indian Mountains, and Chinese gongs.

---

Author's Note: All the poems I submit are 100% mine. If you copy them I will send my personal Lethifold after you! Please Read and Review to tell me what you think! PEACE!

Pixie

What is that blue thing pulling your hair?
Oh, my, it’s a pixie! You’d better beware!

Size doesn’t matter when it comes to these little devils.
When they realize you’re there, you’d wish you hadn’t meddled.

Electric sparks and gleeful cackling,
They zoom around your belongings, breaking and cracking.

‘Tis better to hide in your closet and wait ‘til their finished.
Wait until their giggles fade and are completely diminished.

As you crack open the door, you finally view,
What those 8-inch terrors could have done to you.

Tables flipped backwards and paintings ripped off the wall,
Glass all over the floor and the chandelier about to fall.

A high-pitched babbling breaks the silence,
And you see a pixie, face full of defiance.

It had flown into the thick, glass bottle.
And landed headfirst into the wine puddle.

You stuff it in the cupboard and lock it up,
As soon as you do, you hear a hiccup.

When grouped together, the pixies can harm,
But when dizzy from wine, they can cast quite a charm.

But once they grab you’re ears and leave you stranded in a tree,
You’ll recall how dreadfully mischievous they can be.

When you choose companions, be wise:
It’s either normal humans or miniature marauders that fly.

Fairy dust and electric blue,
Can overpower the world or steal your shoe.

“Immobilus” can stop them flat,
Or else, you’d better watch you’re back.

---

Cupid

Bows and arrows shoot with precise aim,
Causing love to sprout,
And make unwary people sick and lame,
While the cupid flutters about.

He flies with golden wings,
And strum his little harp,
Cupids are quite innocent things,
Until they strike your heart.

Soaring feelings, oh my, it’s bliss!
To love and to smile,
To hug and to kiss!
To bad it will all wear off in a while.

Bows and arrows shoot with precise aim,
Causing love to sprout,
And making unwary people sick and lame,
While the cupid flutters about.

Wearing a tunic, or just plain nude,
They soar over your head and fire,
Some may consider it rude,
But others don’t care, as their feelings rise higher.

Petty crushes and sickly disgust,
Are immediately reversed to,
Adoration and hearts filled to bust,
And bouquets of red roses and violets of blue.

Bows and arrows shoot with precise aim,
Causing love to sprout,
And making unwary people sick and lame,
While the cupid flutters about.

One unfortunate, black-haired student,
Was seen by a cupid,
And before he knew it,
He had been sang a song that sounded quite stupid:

“His eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad,
His hair as dark as a blackboard.
I wish he was mine, he’s really divine,
The hero who conquered the Dark Lord.”

---

AN: Happie Valentine's Day, everybody! *throws rose petals into the air* I'm sorry if this is a bit late, but it was rejected before. Love you all! Peace on earth! Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!