The Fay

I blithely chased the little child,

While she ran screaming with easy glee;

To hold the dear to my heart was all that I could see

Forever, out of reach,

Separated by a piddling distance,

She ran while she mocked and teased with loving innocence.

Weariness did slowly settle in,

But I pursued, with greater mettle, the child who merrily evaded me

I lost sight of the filthy lanes,

As she gaily screamed with no refrain;

This precious child that sometimes surreally merged with me,

And yet sometimes serenaded as a fay that was meant to be made by me