Once upon a time,
Not that long ago,
A bird flew down from the clouds
To the burnt black ground below.
A little blue water sprite
Stepped lightly down from its back,
And from under the bird's wing
Took her hat and her pack.
"Thank you very much,"
said the sprite with a smile.
"You carried me faithfully
for many a mile."
"My pleasure," said the bird.
"But you'd better go in.
Your friend the fire sprite
Will surely be waiting."
The little blue water sprite
Smiled once more,
And as the bird flew away,
Knocked hard on the door.
The door swung open
And the glowing fire sprite,
Standing on the step,
Smiled wide with delight.
"Ishvyt, my friend,
It's so good to see you!"
"Lasair," replied Ishvyt,
"I feel the same about you."
The friends sat down
And talked together,
Of this and of that,
Of books and the weather.
Then Lasair said,
"Ishvyt, would you like some tea?"
"No thanks," laughed Ishvyt.
"That swill gives me an allergy."
Lasair was surprised,
That Ishvyt was not more polite,
And he looked askance
At the other little sprite.
Ishvyt laughed and
Tossed back her white hair,
Said, "I'm having such
A wonderful time here, Lasair!"
Lasair's frown vanished
And his smile blazed bright.
Don't worry, he told himself.
Everything will turn out right.
The two little sprites
Had tea together.
They talked of this and of that,
Of books and the weather.
Then Lasair asked,
"Ishvyt, would you care for some burning meat?"
"Of course not!" Ishvyt exclaimed.
"As if I could stand such heat!"
Lasair was troubled:
"But I have nothing else to give."
"Never mind," sighed Ishvyt.
"I guess I'll live."
The two little sprites watched
A movie side by side.
It came highly recommended -
Laréna Blejtyd.
After the movie,
Ishvyt went to bed.
But Lasair came back
And slumped in his chair instead.
For some time he sat,
Smouldering by himself.
Then his gaze was drawn to
A new book on the shelf.
He took the book down.
In the front was writ,
Thank for a lovely time!
Your friend, Ishvyt.
Lasair looked at the puddles
Ishvyt had made on the floor,
Remembered the tea,
The meat and more.
Then he looked at the book,
And hit the chair leg with his heel.
He sighed and muttered,
"I don't know how to feel.
"On the one hand,
She's a very good friend,
And that means a lot to me;
I don't want that to end.
"But she made such a mess!
She knows I don't like water!
She didn't like the tea,
Or the meat I specially bought her!
"Are we friends at all?
We're simply not the same.
Perhaps it would've been better
If she'd just never came."
Lasair went to bed,
Still troubled in his mind,
Worried about the answer
That he just couldn't find.
The next day it was time
For Ishvyt to go,
And she packed her bag
With evident sorrow.
"I'm so sorry to leave," she
Said to Lasair,
Who was standing around
With an uneasy air.
He only nodded and
Looked at the floor.
When her bag was ready,
He showed her to the door.
The bird was waiting,
And Ishvyt climbed on.
The bird flapped its wings,
Eager to be gone.
It rose into the air and,
"Goodbye!" Ishvyt cried.
Lasair waved silently,
And inwardly sighed.
Lasair didn't know
What to think of the visit.
Had it gone wrong?
Was it his fault, or Ishvyt's?
He tried to forget it,
To put it from his mind,
And not to look for the answer
That he couldn't find.
But however hard he tried,
It just wouldn't go away.
He simmered and sizzled,
But finally one day,
Thought, "Was Ishvyt at fault,
Or was it only me?
I'll write it all down,
And then maybe I'll see."
So he took pen and paper,
And sat down to write,
And as he busily worked,
His smile grew bright.
For he thought he understood
Just what had gone wrong,
So he wrote his new knowledge
Down in the song.
When it was finished,
He looked down at it proud,
And to check for mistakes,
He read it aloud.
"Once upon a time,
There were two little sprites.
One was fire,
One was water.
One was a son,
One was a daughter.
Although very different,
They were still friends at heart
For they had learned not to let
That keep them apart.
You have to take the fire
Along with the water,
If you want to keep friends
With the Ice and Rain Daughter.
Fire flames 'round water,
And does not flee away.
They're both elements together
At the end of the day."
Lasair laid his pen down,
Feeling free of the past,
And thought of the visit,
Knowing peace at last.
Then he had a thought
That seemed even better.
He took some fresh paper
And began to write a letter.
"Dear Ishvyt," he wrote.
"It's starting to rain.
If it doesn't clear up,
Would you like to come again?"
--- --- ---
Please shred without compassion. I wanted to write a rhyme, so comments on that would be appreciated.
