They wait 'neath the hedgerows
by river banks and down lanes
where the obedient child knows
what their grandparent explains,

"Go you to sleep now it's getting dark"
But one thinks it clever, to sneak to the park!

On tippy tiptoes so noone will hear
her creeping nearer the ring of blue bells
thinking she was the only one near
till a neighing sound, a warning, it tells.

A unicorn tired, of nightly feasts of the bad
said he wished last night to be, the last he had.

Too late she felt shivers, a warning so cold
as the forest descended on her getaway
and the chilled breathing of the faeries of old
iced her all over, so she had to stay.

The moral of this tale of winged creatures of hunger
is you must stay in bed, to live beyond ... younger.


(c) Zy 2015