The Well of the Water Sprite

His eyes were beginning to mist, I saw

When he told his final tale,

With the grandchildren all gathered round

And he with his pint of ale,

They sat, cross-legged, down on the floor,

Looked up at the old man’s eyes,

And hugged themselves, for the tale to come

Was always a sweet surprise.

 

His tales had often been joyful romps

Of elves that lived in the hedge,

When naughty goblins, drunk on the vine

Played tic-tac-toe in the sedge,

The scenes he conjured were children’s dreams

In a world long-lost to men,

But living on as a child’s sun shone

On a land called ‘Way back when.’

 

‘There once was a place called Elfin Grove

When I was little, like you,

I’d skip on over the farmer’s stile

To a meadow, covered in dew,

I’d follow the witch’s raggedy track

Through the mumbling pom-pom trees,

And wave to the branches as they waved back

And danced in the morning breeze.’

 

‘I’d pass by the fairy’s mushroom dell,

Then stop, and I’d tip my cap,

For often I’d hear the fairy queen

As she’d sit in the ring, and clap,

The hedgehogs ambled out of my way

As I called, ‘I’m coming through!’

The badgers grumbled as I went by

For that’s what the badgers do.’

 

'And then I would come to Elfin Grove

Where the beams of the sun shone bright,

The grass in there was greener than green

By the Well of the Water Sprite,

The water lay by a rocky ledge,

It rose from under the ground,

Cold as cold, it was crystal clear

And hidden behind a mound.'

 

‘I thought that the well was there for me

So I cupped my hand, and drank,

Then I saw a girl was looking at me,

She said, ‘You have me to thank!

I draw that water out of the sky

And I mix it in with the dew,

Then filter it through the mountain banks

And it bubbles up here, for you.’

 

'Her dress was covered in sequins, and

Her hair was down to her waist,

Her shoes were covered in spangles

And her bodice was tightly laced,

She held in her hand a willow wand

That she raised, and offered to me,

She said, ‘You’ll always find water

With a wand from the willow tree.’

 

I said, ‘I’ve not seen you here before,’

She said, ‘I’m always around,

You have to drink of the water that

I bring from under the ground.

And this one, this is a magic well,

It’s hidden, and out of sight,

It can only be seen by the pure of heart,

The Well of the Water Sprite.’

 

‘I looked away and the sprite had gone,

She’d slipped down into the well,

I thought I must have imagined it

Caught up in a fairy’s spell,

I never saw her again out there

For soon I was turning ten,

And double figures are when we know

That boys are becoming men.’

 

The children went and I questioned him

When I’d tucked them all in bed,

‘Was ever a well like that out there?’

He turned and nodded his head.

‘They built all over Elfin Grove,

Put factories on the site,

The water’s muddy, and now tastes foul,

And gone is the Water Sprite!’

 

David Lewis Paget

Reviews

[Lena M. P.]

Well you had me captivated in the magical kingdom you painted. Then you had to do a typical David Paget twist and killed it at the end you devil. I love to believe that somewhere in this vast world there are still sweet little sprite twirling and leprechauns dancing.

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

This is both beautiful and sad: beautiful in its language; sad for its tragic ending.

[Jazique]

Awe it almost sounds like the water sprite was kiled by polluntion. Anyways it was a wonerful tale almost meant for children everywhere it was for the sorrow death. Either way it was excellent and can't wait to read another one but, hopefully one day at the end.

[Onku Ghosh]

Brilliant as always.Wonderful story writing skill you have...and the stories are always intereting. Such a long poem, but the rhyming is perfect.Grest work!!!!!

[cynthiabuhainbaello]

Excellent writing and very engaging story - the last stanza gave a revealing conclusion and a relevant one.

[Tate Morgan]

this phrase stands above the others as truly inspired I’d follow the witch’s raggedy track

Through the mumbling pom-pom trees,

And wave to the branches as they waved back

And danced in the morning breeze.’

Eloquently told

[Marie]

Oh...I know the water sprite was real, and all the others. But where they've ng now, nobody knows...

[quinfinn]

another finely crafted piece of lore, weaved perfectly for maximum enjoyment. quite an engaging piece.