I read this book to my daughter, as I was read it as a child, and so was my mother before me. Generational fairytaling. Enjoy.
To enter, give this rarity to the fairy, and with ivory bow flanking the present of her undimmed presence, she will tautly tiptoe, amidst the blackness bringing her own luster. She can take you all the way to fairyland; twist, contort, delight and distort all that you believe to be true about what the female form can do.
“If a poem is worthy at all, it isn’t tough–it is frail and exquisite, a mood, a moment of sudden understanding, a cobweb which falls apart at a clumsy touch.”
Blanche Jennings Thompson, 1925