In mischief bold she skims my head
Alights on purple flowers
Anna hums amongst the sage
Their sweetness she devours

Fine energy in ocean greens
Her sparks of red announce
A purposeful intensity
In but a quarter ounce

A whirling blur of white-tipped wings
A feat it is to hover
Her heartbeat races onward
A banquet to discover

So Anna sips her nectar
For nestlings and herself
While I am left to wonder
Is she a bird or elf?

Dorothea Barth ©2011

This entry was posted on Wednesday, October 19th, 2011 at 10:29 am and is filed under Dorothea Barth, Elf Poems, Fairy Poems, Spiritual. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.