Sprite

She goes down to the cool waters,
Sets boats of leaves afloat,
She exhales their sails along the top,
Of calming reflective pools.

She sharply twists the bladed seeds,
Watching spirals fall down.
She taps the branches of Spring trees,
Sending blossoms to the floor.

She rings the bluebells in the woods,
Peals of dappled light rocking.
She puffs the clocks of dandelions,
‘Til small fairies dance about.

She is the sprightly nature’s kiss,
Who tends to all that’s good,
She shapes the features of the seasons,
To enhance them, as all should.