|
| |
Felt Like a Bug
I was drifting off to dreamland, so my senses were deadened a bit
When a piper full of magic entered the forest for a tiny sit.
He took out a flute and began enticing flying things to come by.
Glistening, gleaming and sparkling, I opened my eyes with a sigh.
They were faeries, pixies, flying miniatures, sweet little creatures.
I noticed them vanish, disappear, dissolve, like Saturday movie features.
For they had seen me, when I had opened my eyes to see them.
A malevolent inky look came from the piper now; his eyes slim.
Lanky and lean, he looked at me as if I were corpulent and foul.
Taking a hint, I creeped off, because I am an empathetic gal.
I have no idea if the pixies and faeries came back to the piper.
But I felt like a bug swished off in a car’s window swiper.
Copyright ©
Caren Krutsinger
|
|