While walking on this cold gray day,
I spied me quite a sight!
An elf umbrella by the way
stood waiting bright and white.
I wondered who had left it there,
who stuck it down without a care.
I hid behind a tree to stare
and find who came to claim
this brolly with its special flair
and see who was to blame.
I sat down on a mossy rock.
This mystery I must unlock.
I waited, patient, taking stock.
I had a ways to go
to get back home and beat the clock,
but, oh, I had to know.
Just then I heard a jaunty pace
soon followed by a shining face.
At sight of me, he stopped in place.
I feared he was afraid.
He turned to run, I joined the chase
through every grassy blade.
When caught, he screamed, began to wail,
but settled down to tell his tale.
He’d sheltered with a sprite so frail
from cold and driving rain.
A fairy saw them through the gale -
she‘d thought their hearts were twain.
So out of spite, and that was all . . .
the fairy stole his parasol.
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