Or what grandpa said about fairy stories.

Flowing ink and flowing words
Never lead to things—untowards.
Of course they don’t and never will
What do you read to think they shall?

Or do you think that talk of stars
And rocket ships, and men on mars,
And dragons breath on silver shield,
And gallant souls who never yield,

And castles bright with silver balls,
And wicked curses from fairy halls,
And angels songs of hope and might,
And gentle words calming fright,

And fire lites in gentle homes,
And sons and daughters forced to roam,
And vict’ry won through desp’rate plight,
And journeys home: back to the light,

Will lead all young things astray?
All hopeful hearts in light of day?
Do you think them some treacherous shore?
That none have e’er survived before?

Come listen to the tales now told
And see if they be dross or gold.
For artful tale has long contained
The wisdom only found through pain.

And through others’ eyes the young may know
The pains and sorrows each path will show.
Come round the fire and listen well
To the truth each fancy tells.

Story Time copyright © Heather Strickler 2025 all rights reserved.