The Luniferous Gazette #38: Thumbelina's Tale Thrice-Told

 Andersen's "Tommelise" in Three Poems

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In celebration of completing my first Fairy Tale Poetry capsule on YouTube, I thought I’d share the Tale of Thumbelina in three poems. The first two were written and published in 2015, but the last poem took me until 2026 to properly ink the ending. I hope you enjoy my retelling of Hans Christian Andersen’s beloved 1835 story, “Tommelise” in Danish, or as I grew up hearing it told—Thumbelina.

I. 

 Thumbelina’s Circumambiency

Whiter than snowfall,
The lake’s bone china face
Glitters through a thin sheen
Of water, depths smoother
Than a porcelain moon.
Blue flowers rimming
The bank never fade,
Bouquets of cornflowers
And sprays of alyssum
Blooming evenly always
Two inches apart.
My lake fills just
A plate, after all—
Not the world.
My shoulder blades are
Too bare for flight,
Yet my courage could
Overflow a thimble!
There are strands of seconds
When I dream of steering
My tulip petal prow across
Real lakes lapping the stars at night,
Through iris ferns shaking
Sword leaves in the breeze,
The world in all its live
Sapphire wideness—

Of wings for skying.

 

 

 II.

Thumbelina in Winter Blue

Winter-struck,
The bird is mostly dead,
But so am I—

Buried under earth with
My frostbitten dreams
Of free blue airs 

Shriveled

Deep inside me like
So many withered
Summer clovers.

A mole’s hole fits
My little tiny hopes
Perfectly.

(No breath of sun shall
Ever reach me here).

But if I can
Spark the swallow’s
Meager warmth,

Perhaps my shade-bound
Heart can share
Something of its wings

When I set its
Feathered fleetness
Wild come

Spring.

 

 III.

Maia’s Alation, or—
Thumbelina Gains Her Wings

No “Little Tiny” tremulous, 
never “thumbling” 
again—

Ever after “Maia,” 
he names me, 
lady vernal.

For my prince, with his 
shrewd crystalline gaze
can plainly scry 

My flowerborn soul is every 
inch as sun-spun as 
his own frame.

(Only I 
forgot my 
innate iridescence . . .)

Fit for flight with the wings 
of a silver fly, I shiver 
at the raw 

Flutter and new strength of 
gossamer panes against
 my back, wondering

How many morning stars and refractions 
of twilight might I stellify 
in a second’s swoop?

Only sky may tell!

 

While I doubt that there are many who peruse YouTube for the express purpose of listening to random poems, if a few wander into my online corner now and then and enjoy my dropped ink bouquets, I shall be glad. I’m still trying to balance that tricky creation v. consumption cycle—you know, figure out how to use social media responsibly without being devoured by it! 

After venturing back into Instagram last week, I decided to keep my cynestiamoon account so that I can share lunar photography there sometimes. But it wasn’t long before I found myself mindlessly scrolling and wasting unaccountable seconds again, my fingertip flicking past posts and reels at a speed to rival a hummingbird’s flicker. 

Thumbelina spent so much of her life cooped up in walled, enclosed spaces, I can’t imagine her wasting another moment of her precious existence under the artificial spell of a screen’s reflection. Her wings give flight to her will.  

So . . .

Maybe this is a reach, but bear with me now—

May our fingers be our better fairies! 

 

Sources:

Hersholt, Jean. (Translator). “Thumbelina.” SDU HC Andersen Centret. 
https://andersen.sdu.dk/vaerk/hersholt/Thumbelina_e.html

“Little Tiny’s Swallow.” (March 2015). Through the Gate, 6. 
http://throughthegate.net/issue6-mar2015/page-swallow.html

“Thumbelina’s Circumambiency.” (Summer 2015). Star*Line, 38(3), 
17. Science Fiction Poetry Association.

“Thumbelina History.” Surlalunefairytales.com.
https://surlalunefairytales.com/s-z/thumbelina/thumbelina-history.html

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