Beneath the tree a squat cottage grew
As if out of the earth
A native dwelling for a native man
The man had the look of one grown out of that soil
Short and gnarly
Like a beech tree’s roots
He earned his bread and milk, his butter and cheese
By making shoes, and repairing these
And every year on Halloween
Folks came hunting his fabled gold
As if he really did exist in this world
The Little Leprechaun Man
crispina kemp 
Nicely done, Crispina. At least they need not fear him 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
And maybe if he liked you, he’d offer to mend your shoes?
LikeLiked by 1 person
Win, meet, Win!
LikeLiked by 1 person
That’s the sort of result we like
LikeLiked by 1 person
A lovely magical story
LikeLiked by 1 person
I think my reply slipped out of place. The tree inspired the tale
LikeLiked by 1 person
It’s happening a lot these days
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you
🙏🥰
LikeLiked by 1 person
You’re welcome
LikeLiked by 1 person
🙏
LikeLiked by 1 person
🩵💙🩵
LikeLike
The tree inspired the tale 🤔
LikeLike
What a great tale. Sometimes it feels good to get out of the realism for a moment.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I’d say it’s always good to get out of realism. That’s why my books are set long long ago before anyone had thought to form a letter
LikeLiked by 1 person
I do love this story Crispina. I know you wrote it but it has the feel of a centuries old tale. 💜💜
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Willow. I am thoroughly steeped in folklore, folktales and mythologies, a deep store I dip into when inspiration directs me
LikeLiked by 1 person
it shows Crispina and it’s lovely 🌹🌹🌹
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you. I think it has something to do with my roots 💖
LikeLiked by 1 person
Pingback: Crimson’s Creative Challenge #060 – willowdot21
A lovely story, Crispina.
LikeLike