Sprites fly through the living room they glow green with magical dust sprinkles. One lands on the end of my moms broom. She blows it a kiss and it flys away.
Brownies climb the desk with little ropes they sneak off with my reeses pieces but they leave behind a bag of hopes that I'll be a famous poetess someday.
Faerys are real, they just hide really good. If you believe in them sometimes you get to see them. If you go for walks in the woods you might get to see faerys play.
This is my first rhyme poem! Thank you to everybody on this site, and your awesome poems. I learn so much from you guys everyday. :)