The Spell of the Young Sprite


Tell me, Young Sprite,

If you would, by chance,

Why you dance and prance

And shoot me a glance

With your glittering, flittering, chittering lance.

It’s making me crazy,

I’m getting confused.

Now, don’t you refuse,

Tell me, why do you choose

To astound and confound me with magic you use?

Tell me, Young Sprite,

If you would, my dear,

Why, year after year,

With words that I hear,

You mesmerize, tantalize and whisper in my ear.

My head, it spins,

My mind is fuzzing.

Because of the muzzing,

And don’t forget, wuzzing,

Way you amaze and daze with your buzzing.

Tell me, Young Sprite,

If you would, my sweet,

Why you always beat

My eyes with the treat

Of your figure and form, I’d like to eat.

Your colors are bright

And sweat is your scent.

The cotton candy you’ve lent

To this mild-mannered gent

Has boggled and toggled and left his mind bent.

Yes yes, Young Sprite, these are all of your charms.

You glitter and shine,

And sparkle like wine.

You dance and prance,

Astound with a glance,

You’re fuzzy and buzzy, you boggle and bend.

Your voice is quite sweet,

A strawberry treat

With which you tease

And taunt with ease.

I don’t think I’ll ever quite know

Why you turned your tricks on me.

Perhaps I’ll lay my questions low,

Lest this Sprite again I will never see.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

For my mynxie Asian muse. . .

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