I can’t explain it but I’ve recently been sucked in to a children’s fiction world. 80s fantasy films… children’s books… and of course children’s illustrations… I’m obessed! Basically, I am wishing for an eternally young boy to take me away into this adorable Pixie O’Harris world;
If you want to see a fairy this is what you do: –
In the bush at evening when the moon is new
Standing ‘neath a tri-tree learn this spell from me.
Count upon your fingers small – only up to three
Pick a spray of wattle wet with drops of dew,
Wave it high above your head crying as you do: –
‘Wacca-macca-do-croh!’ – that’s the magic word;
And from out the shadows sweetest that you’ve heard
Come the fairy echoes floating back to you.
Standing on your finger tip there’s a fairy too;
Dainty little lady clad in thistle down,
Hair like golden wattle, eyes baronia brown.
Mind you treat her kindly, smile away her fears,
Hold her very gently, kiss away her tears;
If you want to see a fairy you must list to me,
And remember when you’re counting, only up to three.
Wouldn’t you just love to be a fairy sometimes? To be only few centimetres tall and fly around in a forest where the flowers are gigantic and can be your home? Or to fly around and tame a BEE and pester people who are scared of them? Make friends with a giant spider and laugh at the poor little flies getting stuck in their webs? Ride a cat and drink tea out of tiny flowers with a grasshopper? Sigh.