Memories, Poems & Fairy Ribbons ( Day 28 )

Woman blowing bubbles, fairy ribbons behind her. Turning my memories into poems with her magic.
Fairy Ribbons. Bernie Delaney

The Challenge

Today, I’m meant to be writing my own Eulogy. Thanks, but no thanks, Jeff! All I’d want on a gravestone is ” I tried, I really did.” Tried to be loving, honest and open-minded. That’s about it, really.

Still, he got me thinking about my past and some early childhood memories, lovely memories, came back to me. And that’s when I started writing ” Fairy Ribbons”. Maybe you could call it a Eulogy to my inner child, the innocent me? Guess that keeps us all happy then, Jeff.

I’ve written three verses so far this morning.  Little pen pictures of me before I was six, before life got complicated,  before I lost touch with my inner child. It’s strange going back so far in time, like inhabiting a different world. But it makes me feel more connected, make more sense of life, even though the process is emotional. It must be helping me be braver too…I’d never have published something like this in the past. I have a lot to thank Jeff for. And Little Princess Warrior too.

At the end of this post, I’ll include some quotes from TS Elliot’s Four Quartets, creative and inspirational words which search for an answer to the real meaning of life. The theme of Time is threaded through each one.


Fairy Ribbons

I hold your hand...

You are barefooted, a tiny Cinderella,

Dancing with sunshine on the freshly cut grass,

Gathering daisies, fairy ribbons for your baby sister’s head.

Following trails of butterflies as they flit through a forest of

Newly blooming rhododendron, princess purple.

Overhead, the blue sky is puffing with little white lambs.

I help you...

Little doll farmer, stretching  your arms,

Fingers curled around the glass bottle

with the black teat at the end, lamb sized.

Struggling to feed this ravenous pet, he’s tugging and pulling,

Almost knocking you over, a four gulp marathon.

But you’re still standing, locked into your tiny grey wellingtons.

I watch you…

At the Wishing Well, diamond-eyed, listening as

Davie weaves old stories into new.

Staring through  the swirling blue and grey soup,

Down, down, down to where coins fall

And tiny, magic elves swim just for you.

Why can’t this day last forever?


Note: Davie was my nickname for Noelle Ffrench Davies.

Four Quartets

I was always a fan of “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock” with that famous “Do I dare?” quote, but The Quartets are new to me. The poems are beautiful, deep and haunting, they were his last major pieces of poetry. Here are a few of my favourite quotes from Four Quartets:


“And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time.”
― T. S. Eliot, Four Quartets


“Footfalls echo in the memory
down the passage we did not take
towards the door we never opened
into the rose garden.”
― T.S. Eliot, Four Quartets


“Or music heard so deeply
That it is not heard at all, but you are the music
While the music lasts.”
― T S Eliot, Four Quartets


Day 28 of My 500 Words 31 Day Challenge, hosted by Jeff Goins…Memories, Poems and Fairy Ribbons.

The photograph is my own, shot in Dublin.





  • Helene Vaillant

    Hello Bernie,

    I have tried many times to follow your blog. Unfortunately I can’t find anywhere on your blog a link or box or anything that allows it. I wish I could see you posts in the WordPress reader but since I cannot follow you, I never see them.

    I don’t do e-mail follow ups, or RSS.


    • admin

      Maybe it’s because my blog is self hosted, it’s .org not .com…I probably need to add a specific follow button. As soon as I’m finished this writing challenge, I’ll have a look at it.
      Thanks for letting me know, Helene, really appreciate it 🙂
      Bernie x

  • JulesPaige

    Too often early childhood is lost by some tragedy. And then it seems like forever before we can reconnect with that inner child. But for those of us who do – trying is enough. For those who seek perfection and forget to look at nature with some very unique creations – look for me in rose gardens or my own yard where dirt, air and water mix with compost to help aide the living. I will be traveling by my inner music to the place where I started and repeatedly know that place for the first time every time. 🙂

    • admin

      I know, Jules…There is no such thing as perfection, but beautiful memories help us cope.
      I love how you make sense of Elliot’s poems, connecting them to a theme that was rolling around in my head!
      When I have time, I hope I can add to the post. I was just so tired, I could hardly explain what I meant 🙂

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