Wingkin, Blingkin, and Nod

                                    The Legends of Fairies


          In the twilight, between light and the shadows, there lives
          a race of magical beings. Some say they are angels, or
          ghost, but there is an old Irish tale of Fairies and
          Leprechauns. The little people no bigger than a firefly.
          Slender maidens with butterfly wings, whisper in
          the ears of poets and prophets.

          What I am about to recount is not intended to be fact
          or Gospel. It is only a wee Fairie whisper.

          Somewhere, near the tall grasses in the trumpet of a
          lilie, three slender fair maiden Faries bathed. If you had very
          thick magnifing specticles you might see them. It was
          Wingkin, Blingkin and Nod. They were drenched in nectar
          and quite a flutter; splashing their hands and wings.

          Wingkin giggled, "How sweet are these juices?"

          Blingkin replied, "They make my spine tingle!"

          Nod lick the thick dew off of the lilies petals and
          slid down between Wingkin and Blingkin. They swirled
          all about each other too slippery to hold onto.

          Nod pressed her face against Blingkin's belly and
          laughed, "If there were a Lepracaun amongst us we'd
          have his pot of gold!" Blingkin and Wingkin laughed so
          fast they slid head over heels on top of Nod. Nod looked
          up and thought, "I've never seen so many juicy fruit in one
          lilie." They nibbled and giggled with glee.

          I pondered, "Could this be the forgotten innocence?"


          (^)+