On the edge of the town, in the woods by the stream,
sat the Wisp o' the Wold on a golden sunbeam.
She was watching the damsonflies dance on the water,
when into the copse skipped the millkeepers daughter.
The girl was a wildling, a child of the forest,
her laughter rang free as she ran and she foraged;
snatching at blackberries, apples and sloes,
which she popped in her mouth - juicy drips on her clothes.
A wildling she may be, but spoiling the peace,
with her noisy intrusions unnerving the beasts.
With a spirit so strong that the birds fled their nests,
and the squirrels dispersed clutching nuts to their chests.
The Wisp, who was watching, knew just what to do,
she must caution the wildling - that she may leave too!
Just a warning - "be careful, play closer to home",
thus erase this ingrained predilection to roam.
With a swoop and a swirl, and her hair unfurled, she hurried along to catch up with the girl.
She sped to the treetops and whipped up a storm,
in and out of the branches - a whirlwind was born.
It whistled and screamed in the canopy high,
but the wildling just smiled as she skipped right on by.
With a swoop and a swirl and a furious twirl, the wisp thought again and caught up with the girl.
She gathered the leaves that had fell to the floor,
made an autumnal cloak the girl couldn't ignore.
As her target approached she leapt into her path,
but the girl was delighted - immune to her wrath.
With a swoop and a swirl midst the leaves she had hurled,
she was getting quite cross with this fearless young girl.
A different approach; she had words with the grasses,
whose whispering and dancing had spooked lots of lassies.
Happy to help, they performed to their best,
but the girl just sat down to enjoy a small rest.
With a swoop and a swirl Wisp was getting quite vexed,
she had one more idea to get rid of the pest.
She gathered the birds and they all made a plan, to muster their wild, inner bogey-man.
They awaited their target up high in the branches,
for the signal from Wisp, when they'd start their advances
The wildling approached, not a care in the world,
unaware of the upset she'd caused in the Wold;
unaware of the army the undergrowth hid;
unaware of their sinister girl-ridding bid.
The starlings descended, a black cloud of feather,
surreal murmurations as they all moved together
The wildling was charmed as this dance she beholded,
and watched open-mouthed as the spectacle unfolded.
Wisp was incensed now, the wildling was tough,
and attempts to remove her had not been enough.
The wind and the leaves must once more be harboured -
with the grasses and birds they must try a lot harder!
A plan was evolving, one final attack;
to unsettle and send the young wildling right back.
They took up positions, got ready for battle,
intent on removing the girl from their chattel.
When all of a sudden she turned on her heel,
with a clap of her hands and an audible squeal.
For brought on the breeze down the path, through the woods,
was the smell of her dinner,and it smelled 'oh so good'!
With a swift pirouette she was off like a shot,
skipping back down the path, unaware of their plot.
The wildling was gone and the Wisp was delighted;
as the peace and the calm in the forest was righted.
She returned to the woods, to the copse by the stream,
and relaxed once again on her golden sunbeam.
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