He did not consider himself an every day sort of plant. He was a juggler of dewdrops, a magician of moisture, an enchanter of aqua. His dearest dream was to run away and join the circus…as soon as he learned how to run.
dewdrops
The cobweb sagged, overladen with baubles. Wearing so many strings of pearls before breakfast made her feel self-conscious. She much preferred a soft-spoken leaf or even a struggling mosquito for adornment.
pincushion
He knew dandelions weren’t the most popular flower, but he never expected to find himself bedraggled with moisture and stuck through with arrows like some sort of meadow pincushion.
waiting
Her attention remained on the edge of the water, waiting. Every day at dusk she did this, always with the faint concern her friend would not materialize; that maybe she’d dreamt her up after all. She spied a flash of pink climbing down the rocks and the mermaid child grinned. Her human friend was here.
lions
He trotted through the flowers, hunting for understanding. Once in a while he would stop and inspect one of the other lions, but he still wasn’t sure what made them so much dandier than he.
abandoned castles
The kingdom had long since fallen, but the castle still remained, towering from a bed of leaves. Salamander dragons roamed abandoned banquet halls and laid their eggs in the bedchambers of forgotten royalty. They raised a dozen generations of lizard princes and princesses before the castle finally fell.
the wooden rose
He didn’t have any money with which to buy her flowers, so he cobbled one together out of wood. The other boys made fun of him, but she never did. His rose outlasted all the others, and they passed it down from mother to son for all the generations of their children.
hung up by his ears
They hung him up by the ears for all the trouble he’d caused, but he didn’t learn his lesson at all. Instead he discovered the wonder of soaring on the wind. Years later, when he became the first stuffed bunny to fly solo across the Atlantic, he would attribute this early misadventure as the catalyst to his mission.
the dragon’s cave
There were better caves, cozier caves, and safer caves on mountaintops. Just the same, this one with the happy sound of a rollicking river always present, was the one the dragon chose for his den. One morning a chunk of the cliff calved away and littered his entryway. It was intended to oust the beast. Instead, the dragon admitted, in his easygoing way, the art of stone landscaping was better left to the cliff’s discretion and cheerfully stepped around it. The cliff was so impressed it changed its mind at once and soon grew proud to host such a fiery tenant.
There are few things as lovely as a fairy’s wedding dress.
Jennifer Shelby 