There once was a man who lived on a pretty plot of land,

Filled with lovely little gardens grown from a kind and loving hand.

It had plush papery peonies that bloomed pink, red, and white,

And fragrant violet wisteria that filled the air throughout the night.

He grew carrots and peas, and apples and plums,

And when he tends to his sheep he whistles and he hums.

The man loved butterflies, moths, and even birds,

Anything that soared in the sky beyond his landbound herds.

He’d gaze at them for hours and wish he had their wings,

So he could join them in the sky and see the joys that flying brings.

On a day that seemed quite normal, though special as we’ll see,

He strode out to his gardens to watch the soaring birds fly free.

He saw orange winged butterflies and tiny yellowed bees,

That danced in springtime pollen, their forms no larger than his peas.

There were robins, and blue jays and hummingbirds galore,

And something else quite odd he had never seen before.

At first he thought it fake, his imagination gone wild,

But when he looked much closer, he felt as giddy as a child.

Before him in the sky was a small little being,

As human as she looked, she was as tiny as a bean.

She was dressed in vibrant petals and had pretty golden hair,

And right upon her back were wings that left her hovering in the air.

She parted ruby lips and spoke to him with glee,

“Don’t just stand right there and stare, invite me in for tea”.

The two became close friends, growing herbs and making art,

They did everything together, like they shared one beating heart.

They sipped on teas in the summer sun, and danced to nature’s humming,

But when winter finally came, the days grew far more numbing.

Fluffy clouds of snow covered everything in white,

And the chilling cold came swiftly freezing everything at night.

The man proposed, “Join me for tea? where its nice and warm inside”,

But the fairy shook her pretty head and sighed as she replied,

“This cold is far too much, and my wings will freeze like ice”,

The man felt disappointed, and offered some advice,

“I could build a roaring fire, to keep you toasty as you are”,

She shook her head again “your fires far too large, my dear, and my tiny wings will likely char”.

“Then I’ll make a smaller fire, one that’s fit just right like you”

She smiled at him and said, “okay, show me the best that you can do”.

The man made it his mission, that day and then the next,

To make a smaller fire, but the task had left him vexed.

He asked the birds for help, he asked the sheep and he asked the bees,

He asked his barnyard animals and even the wild ones in the trees.

The bees were kind to offer, “use our combs if you desire, we need not use them in this cold”,

So the man took up their gifts and in the night began to mold.

He started with a tiny pot, to fill with water piping,

But the comb began to melt and that plan was not worth liking.

At noon the sheep came next, to offer up their cotton,

“To make her a blanket”, they said, so the cold can be forgotten.

Honeycomb and cotton, a strange mix indeed,

But one to keep on trying, with his plans he did proceed,

He whittled the cotton fibers, so they made one thick piece of string,

And fashioned all the beeswax into a strange columnar looking thing.

With a mind filled with hope, he lit the string with flames from his fire,

And watched in quiet wonder as his hope soared and soared much higher.

Positioned on the thread was a burning orange flame,

Though it was tinier than his, the heat was just the same.

“I did it!” he cheered, “A tiny fire fit for fae”,

“So you can come and visit and drink raspberry tea all day”.

The two spent their days indoors, playing games and reading books,

And the girl made pretty garlands, to hang up high on ceiling hooks.

Though they longed for warmer weather so they could be outside once more,

They still enjoyed the winter sat together on the floor,

The man sat near his fire, that kept his body nice and toasty,

And the girl sat near her candle that stood beside him very closely.