Dont Drop Him
I was holding onto baby faerie by his brittle little wing.
He weighed less than a loaf of bread, this cute little thing.
I heard his tiny voice as he began a melodic little sing.
No one else heard it, but it had a catchy zing.
Don’t drop him! Other faeries were ordering me about.
As if I would have let that baby faerie fall – why would they doubt?
Insulted, I put up my nose, showing them an impudent pout.
“Don’t drop him!” a grasshopper yelled. This time it was a shout.
Copyright © Caren Krutsinger | Year Posted 2023
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