Lizzie the Fairy

Lizzie the Fairy

 

Lizzie the fairy

Awoke in her tree

Feeling wonderfully fine

And absolutely free.

 

Fresh as a daisy

Smooth as churned butter

She needn’t have coffee

Before setting off with a flutter.

 

She planned her route

To the sacred well

Where she’d collect from the spring

To make her pottery to sell.

 

On her wheel she would spin

Soft mounds of clay

Shaping and moulding

All through the day.

 

When break time would come

She would dance and sing

Pleased with her progress

In all her made things.

 

Vases for sunflowers

Jugs for their golden oil, too

Honeypots and egg cups

Every piece, a lovely shade of blue.

 

But one day when she awoke

And war had descended,

She knew what she had to do,

Her sphere of giving, extended.

 

To support those who were needy,

Displaced by the wickedness of one.

A monster, she thought,

Causing so many to run.

 

So she spun and she spun

With a new and urgent fervour

Because it was all she could do �"

She refused to sit, remaining an observer.

  

Lizzie hoped it would help,

Even a small difference it might make

To give solace to the fleeing

To heal their hearts, how they must ache!

 

As she cleaned her forest studio

Putting everything away that day

She reflected upon how blessed she was,

Kneeling in the sacred grove to pray.

 

She prayed for peace

An end to the destruction, mindless,

For the world to be bound

Only in light, and in kindness.

 

-        Charlie’s Enigmatic Wren, ©2022

 

 

 

Reviews

[John the Baptist]

I thought I was reading a fairy tale when right in the middle of it, Putin made an appearance. Can't get away from that guy anywhere I look.

[Relic]

I enjoyed this very much and found the font fit so well with the story.

Great job.

[Charlie's Enigmatic Wren]

Thanks ever so :)