Sally Gossamer Wingstep heard a most curious sound,
It came from beyond the wilderness copse, over, about, and around;
When Sally flew around the last tree a wonder she could see
A greying Fablehaven hound softly baying at a prone bumblebee.
Sally risked to go closer to inspect this quite usual sight—
Instantly she flew for Johnny H. Beekeeper in a quite frenzied flight.
Can he find the resolution for a bee brought down so low?
If he lacks the right solution, where then could she ever go?
Johnny was tending keen to the so new garden green—
Petite pois on the trellis, coifed and coiled like you’ve never seen,
Tomates on the vine, carrots long and tall, blueberries arching high;
And Johnny’s prized honeycombs, so grand as to make a master bumble bee sigh,
And cousin-once-removed baby Amber Grace with the prettiest wee fairy face
Was flutter-skurrying in and out of plants and was just all over the place!
“Johnny, O Johnny”, Sally cried to her family friend with sure pride
“Come quick with me to see this poor poor bee, laid low and curled to one side.”
Finding hard-working Katje to attend their baby Amber Grace
Sally and Johnny flew straight off to the far away wooded place
With simple mind and quiet grace, John approached the curled up bee
But twas nothing more could be done, was plain and simple to see.
“Let’s take him home” offered John to Sally’s slow honoring tears,
Nodding, Sally looked for brambles to build a sled as for one’s peers.
A far off buzz grew nearer, the Wild Hive had come to find their brother;
A rippling peace reigned as Bumble Bee and Fairy regarded one another.
John and Sally backed away bowing as the Bumble Bees took up the reins
The bees would long remember how those aloof fairies had taken such pains.
The old Fablehaven hound bayed again as the sled disappeared around the wooded copse;
Sally and John made their long slow way back to home and the fairy-grown crops.
Sally made her thank you’s and kissed wee Amber Grace
Quite a wonder to see how Honor and Love forever bless this place.
Katja Bunche Starlight flew as fast as fast can be over from Edelweiss.
Seems her cousin Sally Gossamer Wingstep had gotten caught in a jar—
The rains had come and she’d tried to hide in an old spout
Turned out to be a trap jar and now couldn’t get out!
Jonathan R. Spider, Olde Webmaster of Fairiekynd Forest,
Heard her cries and ran for help just as fast as his six legs could…
When Jonathan and Katja returned, the jar was gone!
Frantic they scurried and scurried trying to find her all day long!
Over across a fence and beyond the wide, flat plain
A wizened dog saw the two odd creatures buzzing and fretting and crying and all.
She tought she might perhaps ought wander over to the south fence
To see what just was what and try to curry up some sense.
“HARrrooo!” Spoke the dog.
Katja and Jonathan leapt great leaps at the sight of that huge dark-furred monster.
[As to fairiekynd forest fairy folk and a geriatrical spider, the black Labrador looked pretty humongous!]
“ARrwhat is the tizzy that makes you two so dizzy?” Enquired the dog.
Katja flew over to the fence, not too close to the fence, but over sorta to a nearby log.
“Our cousin is GONE! Jonathan here says she got stuck in a jar but the jar is nowhere about.
We came as fast as fast could be to try to let her out.”
“Arrumph!” Harrumphed the dog.
“I do believe little master 2-legs has her in the big house.
He likes catching fireflies and such and I am s’posing he has your cousin.
He was mighty tickled he caught something, but he couldn’t get over why it didn’t glow.
Yes, ARrrmm sure that’s your cousin. Little 2-legs just didn’t know.”
“My Cousin Sally IS NOT A TOY!” Exclaimed Katja.
“I ‘sposen you’re right…
Can I help?
I can take you over to the house. Maybe you two critters can get her.”
Offered the big dog, pensively grooming at an uncooperative bit of fur.
Jonathan shuddered and stammered and turned to the Alpine Fairy. “Are we going?”
“Of course, YES!” Spoke the fairy.
With as much elfin dignity as could be conjured, Katja slung Jonathan onto the back of the Labrador.
And then the trio headed for the big old house across the flat plain.
Wisteria and Sweet Olive wafted to the senses as they got to the window.
Upon the sill, Katja saw a jar and inside a damp cousin fairy looking pretty low.
“……………………..….!” yelled Sally from inside the jar.
“Don’t waste your strength, mouthed back Katja. We’ll get you out, I think???
Uh, my big girl, what’s your name?”
Well, lessee…it used to be Coco, but now it’s Jenny, it’s all the same.
“Uh, ok, Coco-Jenny, I’m Katja and this is Jonathan.
“HARarrroo!” Welcomed the dog.
“Hiya.” Stammered the spider, his courage a mite subpar.
“Ok, so Coco-Jenny, could you get your paws up so we can grab the jar?”
“Certainly!” Answered the dog.
With a tug, and a pull, and a push and a pull, Sally from inside, Katja and Jonathan from out
The jar finally slid off the sill and fell to the clover-carpeted ground.
“Quick, Coco-Jenny, grab the jar and take us back to the fence!”
“ARrrrright,” agreed the dog, tail awagging, caught up in the drama and suspense.
[At the fence, Coco-Jenny held the jar between her massive paws as Jonathan and Sally and Katja grabbed the lid and PULLED! After a second, Katja had to instruct Jonathan that it might be better if they all pulled in the same direction. Coco-Jenny thought to herself that she’d never seen a spider blush quite like that. Fiiinnnally…the lid slid and popped off the jar as out shot Sally. Streaking up and following behind was Katja.]
A relieved Jonathan then ponderously threaded up to the top of the fence—
“So, Coco-Jenny. What happened? Why do you have two names when one is sufficient for most of us?”
Well, lessee…long ago, after outgrowing being the runt of the litter, this nice golden-haired lady got me and took me in. Then she went somewhere I don’t know and her housemate took me to the pound!”
“Wow! Uh, what’s a ‘pound’?” Johnathan not much caring for the word’s off sound.
“Oh, that’s a very important place they take animals to get reassigned, at least that’s what seems to have worked out. That gold haired kid was so sweet and all, but I’m doing real important work now with these old 2-leggers and their children and all. Big responsibility to wrangle these old folks and kinder in this big place. Get to run lots too in this big yard!” Crowed the dog.
“Well, that sounds pretty good. Thanks so very much for all your help.
I’m sure once Sally gets over being enjarred she’ll come over to say thanks too!”
“That’d be real nice of her. I don’t know what was my young 2-legger’s game,
Trapping nice folks like your…Sally, what wasser name?”
“Oh, Sally Gossamer Wingstep and her cousin Katja Bunche Starlight.”
“Well, nice to meet you all. Oh! Gotta go, the can opener is buzzing so dinner’s on.
Bye, Jonathan!” “Bye, Coco-Jenny!”
I think that old dog and forest spider have started a nice, new friendship run.
Marcus V Featherstone winged about the morning mist
Contemplating marvelousness if Sally G. he might have kissed
But she’s far too grand, he thinks, for one as insignificant as he
Perhaps if he completed the Annual Race to the toppermost of the Queen’s Tree
The he might could just barely maybe conclude he warrants the attention of said miss
Sally G. foraged amongst the garland vines of fairykind’s farthest field
She commanded by the memory of a certain someone’s cool violet eyes to yield
But he’s far too grand, she thinks, for one as insignificant as she
Perhaps if she completed the Annual Race to the toppermost of the Queen’s Tree
Then she could just might perhaps sort of conclude she warrants his attention to wield
The morning of the Annual Race dawned a foggy and clammy-close though yet Grand Affair
But such was the history and joy of the Queen’s Event that most of fairies did nae much care
But that few reached the canopy and much warning was about the hazards of such a quest
Some trained for years, and though many many failed to summit, they all tried their honest best
Oh, but at Start Time, the mist cleared, the skies blued, and the weather could be a day most fair
Marcus V. would go the southern approach and make his noble stab for glory
Sally thought after the eastern boughs to write the best of her winged story
Neither knew of the others flight plan or even that they would be there
Neither thought the other could possibly think this would be a thing wise to dare
Oh, then clouds shrouded the Sun and the gathering mists promised to turn the day most hoary
Lost in the dark and the fluff Sally alighted on the next promising soft tree bough
Crushed in the knowledge of this failure: what, oh what would she do now
Flying way off course, Marcus drifted ever and more further east
Summiting the Queen’s Tree seemed a dream to be cast off as a need least
But a far soft keening did Marcus and Sally perceive, but to reach the fairy, how
Working bough to bough, the two young winglets sought to help the crying one
Shaking off disappointment as this had been their plan for a heart to be won
Sally got there first to find a wee fairy far too high for his own good
Trying to impress a stern lofty Father as if such heroics ever ever could
Marcus arrived shortly after, tamping down his joy for the good that needed to be done
Down the tree Marcus and Sally silently escorted their frightened cold charge
Stealing glances at each other, young love paused, though their longing loomed large
His Mother flew up to embrace her naughty though ever brave young son
Father too weeping flew up to his boy, holding his loved and cherished one
Sally and Marcus feathered off, such a familial scene they knew not into barge
Marcus V Featherstone flutterbuzz-winged about the morning mist
Sally G foraged amongst the garland vines of fairykind’s farthest field
Remembering how the moment came when longing caused something to yield
And at the foot of the Queen’s Tree, as Marcus made his thanks, his cheek Sally had kissed!
But Sally Gossamer Wingstep already was planning to train for next year’s Queen Tree’s Race
It was one of those determined, inquisitive, tussle-headed boys;
Should she hazard a kiss to find out what he knows?
Dropping down from the Queen’s Tree on Honeysuckle Ridge
Sally Gossamer Wingstep bussed him one right on the nose!
First crinkled into asterisks, then the eye lids slid wide open.
The boy got up from his bedroom willow copse,
While Sally regarded safely from behind a toadstool—
A lad all alone out here? Where’s his Pops?
A half-walk whistle slung low caught her sharp ear:
Sally saw Evelyn over by the ‘Herroyalship’s Tree’.
Sally whipped over to her cousin’s hideaway.
Alright, so now we caught-lost number three.
Evelyn Eagle Wingtip was shaking like a leaf;
“What’s ever is the matter, Eve?
Why are you in such so evident grief?”
“Oh Sally, that boy chased me all morn.
He followed me into our fairie dome;
Now he is oh, so, so lost
And cannot find his way home.”
Sally then thunk some deep thoughts—
Then, smiling, beamed, “Not to worry!
We’ll just call upon our own sage fairie
And spin a spell taught by our Ferena Ashbury!”
Arm and wingarm together they spun
Ascatterin’ fairy dust and achanting as one:
“Take us where the willows glow,
Away from thy Darkness know.”
The boy wheeled and then headed back towards camp
Missing the fairies shrieking glee of joy.
Twas an older spell for the fairly Lost:
Kitten, pony, or overly-determined little boy.
Sally and Eve flew off, soaring on up high
Back to their own warm abodes in Fairie Dome;
Happy the boy was headed in the right way,
And they too were safe, aheaded home.
–thanks to Lillian Patricia Perkins Fedoroff for loaning me Ferena Ashbury
(and a line or two) as a character for this poem for National Poem Day 2015
Sally Gossamer Wingstep’s wings could barely hold her up—
Arriving with tons of presents, she only could manage ”‘sup?”
Wrappings of blues and reds and greens with white and some gold—
Her answer to every salesman pitch wasn’t “How much?” but “SOLD!”
Traveling across hill and dale, ‘round the bend, and back,
You’d think her goal was that she alone would fill Ole Santa’s sack.
She’d seen him once long ago when riding in her grandfather’s sleigh:
Gramps’s sled and Santa’s passed and Gramps called out to him “Hey!”
She’ll never forget that old man’s smile and eyes crinkling so warm…
[Which I’m remembering to you by writing this here Christmas parm.]
Sally Gossamer Wingstep wrapped the presents, my how her fingers flew—
I hope you will get what you want and Merry Christmas to You!