Pixie Bath

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!’

5 thoughts on “Pixie Bath

  1. 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.

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