A flash of fuchsia fabric,

Wildflowers in her hair.

She bounds through ice cool grasses,

Purple trumpets everywhere.

Her dark curls stream behind her,

They catch the early light.

She tiptoes now, so softly,

The toadstools oh, so bright.

She prods them with a tiny twig,

Their glow a little strange.

A sinister little shiver

So her stance she does not change.

A shimmer in the bushes,

The dance of dainty feet.

Is that a fairy on her way,

Her elfin friend to meet?

Her gossamer wings, his pointy ears,

A curious pair these lovebirds make.

The girl, in shock peers through the ferns,

Their sunlit faces by the lake.

The fairy perches with a grin,

Her lovely dress of rose pink lace.

He watches her with quiet awe,

His princess, perfect, style and grace.