A water sprite born long ago
Made from starlight and melted snow.
A child lies ill, not far away
With waters memory, she will play
To wash away each tiny tear.
Her leg so twisted, now undone
The child is well and out to play.
The water sprite has far to go
So many voices calling please please
Will someone help me, I am in need
A healing prayer sent on the wind
Melted snow is carried far
To wash each laden tear…
©Anita Dawes
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