(Poem 280 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

My book fairies
come out at night
as all book fairies do,
but mine are pesky
little things
nuisances, that’s who.

They steal my things
like coins and rings
and put them who knows where.
They flit around
upsetting the dogs
and giving the cats a scare.

I know the night
is their time to roam
and I shouldn’t begrudge their fun,
but we’re trying to sleep.
We have work tomorrow,
and their revelry’s just begun.

Once in a while
they’ll do something nice
like leave a breakfast for me,
but even then,
they use books as plates
and put fish scales in my tea.

I wish them well,
health and long life
and all those other things,
but I need them to go
inhabit someone else’s shelves
with their constantly flapping wings.

@Home Studio – 280^th poem of the year

Runner ups for the Fairies photos to accompany my poem: