Dawn Ferrett Poems

The fairy on the Christmas tree
Is looking quite forlorn.
Her wand is broken and splinted;
Her wings, all tattered and torn.
...

As I wander through the endless roads
That typify my thoughts and dreams,
One question has always remained.
Throughout the years, I've journeyed on;
...

Silently, stealthily he winds his way,
Utilising the dark recesses,
Creeping up on unsuspecting prey
Made helpless in his deadly caresses.
...

Daddy has a secret! He was woken by a light!
Something or someone was moving through the garden late one night.
He crept up to the window and, much to his surprise,
He saw a band of tiny folk - about a foot in size.
...

Whatever happened to gratitude?
Is it dead, or just taking a break?
Could somebody tell me why 'Thank you'
Is so hard a gesture to make?
...

Awareness of self and others.
Curiosity, an inquiring mind.
Honesty, no falsehood here!
Impishness, playful spirit.
...

Amid the hustle and bustle of the school playground,
One young girl sits all alone.
As quiet as a mouse, she watches, but doesn't join in.
No-one pays her any attention.
...

You think that you know just who I am,
But how can that possibly be,
When all you can view from the outside
Is the part I allow you to see?
...

I am a child, lost in a strange and frightening world,
A refugee in a time of trouble.
I gaze upon the faces in a hostile crowd:
An orphan, whose home is a pile of rubble.
...

It really isn't funny
When the day is warm and sunny
But your nose is red and runny
Though you haven't got the flu.
...