The Ash Tree Fairy

Trunk and branches are smooth and grey;
(Ash-grey, my honey!)
The buds of the Ash-tree, black are they;
(And the days are long and sunny.)

The leaves make patterns against the sky,
(Blue sky, my honey!)
And the keys in bunches hang on high;
(To call them “keys” is funny!)

Each with its seed, the keys hang there,
(Still there, my honey!)
When the leaves are gone
and the woods are bare;
(Short days may yet be sunny.)

Cicely Mary Barker

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Uma partilha mágica da minha Joana, pedaço de alma, peito em uníssono, que me fez sorrir e acreditar. Magia é real na medida em que nos permitimos sonhar. E é tão bom, sonhar.