Beyond the farthest meadow,
In the center of a hill,
There rests a quiet burrow
Behind an ice flow, never still
And in that ice-cold grotto,
One can find – from time-to-time,
A tiny pixie winnow
While she bathes with wild thyme
She sings a song of summer
And she sings a song of wheat
And the melody becomes her
As she sings with voice so sweet
‘Hallu, kallay, newcomer,’
She greets with words her own
‘I’m seeking out a drummer
Who can sing in baritone,’
Her voice trills into laughter
Filled with honey-sweet appeal
When she finds your eyes lech after
Her shape, so perfectly surreal
‘Or, perhaps you’d be a crafter
Who might make a ring f’r me?
Since, if it’s me y’ur heart’s sought after
You’d best know how to shrink y’ur key!’
This.Is.Fabulous!
I love everything about it!
I love the little pixie’s sense of humor, too!
I want this on a plaque…hanging in my den…
*lol*
Thanks, Sandy. It was pretty amusing to write and I wanted to do so much more but my brain just up-and-quit.
This is so sweet! It made my heart swell with joy! It is a beautiful story/poem-enchanting. I hope you consider submitting this.
Thank you!
I was, indeed, planning to submit this one. I’m pretty impressed with how it turned out at hour 22, when I was SO tired! Per usual, it took re-reading it after a few days to realize how well it had come out.
Inspiration and writing is funny for me, like that: In the heat of the moment, I have no perspective.
Glorious!!! I love it. You’re quite easy on the hand with flow and rhythm Meredith. Your imagination is gorgeous! Thanks for writing this. Blessed my senses