Scattered amongst the mossy turf,
and circled around the tree trunks;
they’d blow gently to and fro.
You told me fairies and sprites sheltered
under their flared heads,
when the rain or snow fell.
I’d pick them by the slopes of the beck,
and place them on your dresser.
Sometimes you’d pluck the flowers off their stems,
and weave them into my braids.
Dancing like Titania I ruled over the forest,
shouting commands at the blackbirds and thrushes.
But they always flew away.
Once I thought I saw a figure,
hiding underneath a rotten toadstool,
but now I doubt I ever did.
