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Brian and Wendy Froud will be at the Faery Fayre and Faery Ball at Glastonbury, 11 – 12 March. There will also be a screening of Lessons Learned, the live-action puppet animated short film written and directed by Toby Froud!

lessons-learned

For more information, visit: www.faeryevents.com

And to stick with the Froud theme, here’s a poem I wrote that was inspired by Lady Cottington’s Pressed Fairy Book, written by Terry Jones and illustrated by Brian Froud.

THE FOUL-MOUTHED FAIRY

In a beautiful garden
a sweet young maiden
wandered among the flowers
capturing pansies,
roses and daisies
in delicate watercolours.

It was lovely and warm,
so she sat on the lawn,
her sketchbook propped on her knees –
and then she caught sight
of a fairy, a sprite,
fluttering in the trees.

“Oh fairy sweet”
she did entreat.
“Come join me in the sun.
Oh fairy dear,
come over here
and we can have such fun.”

“Oh, bugger off!”
the fairy quoth.
“I’ve better things to do.
A sunny day’s
a total waste
spent with an oaf like you.”

“Oh playful imp”
She sweetly simpered.
“Please don’t be so vexed.
I merely propose
to ask you to pose
so that I can make a sketch.”

Then at long last
he fluttered past
and perched upon her page.
His glistening wings
were dainty things –
but his face was picture of rage.

“You bloody humans!”
the fairy fumed.
“You’re such a pack of fools.
You murder our weeds,
our plump slug steeds,
and dig up our toadstools!”

The girl never thought
this would be the sort
of language that fairies employed.
Yet, sad but true,
the air turned blue –
he really was quite annoyed.

The wicked wretch
said “Call that a sketch?!”
and let rip a stinking fart.
With a filthy leer
he flashed his rear –
then vandalised her art.

The girl was appalled
to have her work mauled
in a manner so degrading.
“I’ve had quite enough
of your language and – stuff.
That’s no way to treat a lady!”

“Lady?” said he.
“I don’t agree –
bloody hell, that’s rich.
You’ve a face like a mare,
and backside to spare –
I bet you’re a proper bitch!”

How could she reply
to such a foul lie?
She gave him a filthy look,
and before he could stir
up into the air –
she squashed him flat in her book!

So, ’twas bile and hate
which sealed the fate
of that very foul-mouthed fairy.
But the moral is this –
the sweetest young miss,
if crossed, can be pretty scary.