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Lost quotations

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Poem about a fairy - As l was going home one beautiful summer's morn | 10-Sep-14

As l was going home
one beautiful summer's morn
I met a little fairy
tripping on her way
her bonnet was a bluebell
a daisy was her gown
her wings were little bits of sunshine
trimmed with thistledown.
As she hurried by
I peeped into her basket
to see what I could spy,
a pair of golden slippers
a silver reel of thread
a tiny jar of honey
and a weenie loaf of bread.

Enquirer is trying to find out who wrote this poem.


2 comments have been made on this quote. Click here to read them and then add your own!


Do you know this poem? Do you have any clues to help us find it?


Comments:

I've found the full text of the poem, but I'm afraid I can't find the author. I would guess at Rose Amy Fyleman - it's very similar to her poem 'A Fairy Went a'Marketing' but it could be a loving imitation.

THE FAIRY'S HOUSE

As I was coming homeward,
One early summer's day,
I met a little fairy,
Tripping on her way;
Her bonnet was a bluebell,
A daisy was her gown,
Her wings were bits of sunshine,
Trimmed with thistle down.

I think she'd been to market,
For as she hurried by
I peeped into her basket
To see, what I could spy;
A pair of golden slippers,
A reel of silver thread,
A tiny jar of honey,
And a weeny loaf of bread.

I hid among the tall, grass, .
As still as still could be,
The fairy gave a 'rat-tat
Upon a hollow tree.
Just for an instant
I peeped into her house,
And .do you know the front door
Was opened by a mouse?

Tina Rath

I have known and loved this poem since I was six years old. It has been passed round my family, and now I'm teaching it to my grandchildren. I looked on the internet a few times
but couldn't find it; I didn't know the title. I finally found it on the blog of an Australian woman, but, like me, she didn't know the name. Her version was also slightly different than mine.

As I was going homeward
One early Summer's day
I met a little fairy, tripping on her way
Her bonnet was a bluebell
A daisy was her gown
Her wings were bits of sunshine
Trimmed with thistledown
I think she'd been to market
For, as she hurried by
I peeped into her basket
To see what I could spy
A pair of golden slippers
A reel of silver thread
A tiny jar of honey
And a weeny loaf of bread
I hid amongst the tall grass
As still, as still could be
The fairy gave a rat-tat
Upon a hollow tree
Then, just for an instant
I peeped into her house
And, do you know, the front door
Was opened by - A MOUSE!

Marilyn Hatton


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