The Ferocious Faery

Six years ago she made me work
through the night and early light
snatching rest before she pressed
tiny nails by face clawing her own pace
to safely, naturally, painfully 
take her place.

Big brother catalysed our growing, 
feeling, yielding to mammalian 
attachment styles of talking,
wearing, feeding, working
but the ferocious faery had her own ways –

“Tummy sleeper only, please
I’ll nap alone in darkened peace
king-sized, briefly, but no slings
then sleep entwined
kicking out, twelve hours
at a time, peaceful.
No reasoning or logic here
I know my mind, and you must hear!
I have my ways, and on good days,
they may look like yours –
well done Mum.”

She stretches out her wings and flies 
high as clouds, catching ladybirds flying by
she jumps and climbs,
screams, shouts, and whines,
then softly hums into your ear
songs of rainbows, imagined spectrums 
of existence for the rest of us to hear.

Six years of magic, mischief, mayhem
our Faery daughter leading through them
as strong swimmer in parenting deep-water;
her kick fiercest, her stroke softest,
her will outlasts my stubbornness
efforts to coax or steer 
in any direction
except deeper 
into our hearts.