by Sandra Rippetoe © 2019
Once upon a time in the land of Nature’s-Reason-And-Rhyme
there was a lair in the woods with walls too high to climb.
A girl made her home in that fifteen foot square
with four walls and no roof. Her name was Ayre.
The lair had no windows. It was missing both doors.
It was open to sky, but not anything more.
In the north corner, spring water flowed.
Three animals lived there . . . two turtles, one toad.
In the south corner sat an old fashioned pot
where she’d make yummy soup when she wanted food hot.
Her canopied bed was in corner east.
During a rainstorm she kept dry, at least.
Her dining area was in corner west.
Since she had extra chairs she could entertain guests.
Near one side of her home, fruit and nut trees grew
On the other side . . . vegetables, so she could make stew.
Ayre loved to sing. She constantly composed.
From her heart to the sky sweet melodies arose.
Animals were her friends . . . birds, insects, and squirrels.
But Ayre wished they could speak in the language of girls.
Since they crawled, flew, and climbed – they had freedom to go.
They brought wood for the fire and seeds she could sow.
The turtle pair and Ayre loved to sun at 12 noon.
One day she heard music, “What a lovely tune!”
‘Twas beautiful melodies that were sung clearly
by a chorus of women. It touched her heart dearly.
“I wish I could meet them. I’d sing with them too!
But they’re outside my lair. So what can I do?”
Crow cleverly “cawed.” Ayre was prompted to write
a note he could carry easily in flight.
She startled snared hare when she scooted the chair.
“Hello. My name’s Ayre. My house is a lair.
I cannot move out or beyond it, you see . . .
the walls are too high . . .to climb . . . for just me . . .
You’ll find my dear home at 12 Humble Woods Lane.
From the outside, I’m sure it looks plain.
Whoever receives this, I hope you can help.
I’m not used to freedom, but I’ll watch my step.”
She rolled up the note – placed it in the crow’s beak.
“Please find the right person- the one who I seek!”
As luck would have it, the note found the hand
of a very skilled builder, the best in the land.
“I’ll fix this. I should! This problem’s not tough.”
And he gathered his tools and packed up his stuff.
Crow patiently waited. The man wrote without flair.
“I’m a good builder. See ya tomorrow, Ayre.”
He arrived the next morning and got right to work.
Indeed he stayed busy. Not once did he shirk.
Do you know what he built? Now her den had a door!
She kindly thanked him and tiptoed ‘cross the floor.
Ayre peeked out the door. Should she leave her boxed home?
She looked all around. Near and far, she could roam.
There was so much to see. Ayre squinted and stared.
The sun danced through the leaves. She laughed at the glare.
That door changed her life. With each day came a choice.
With her newfound freedom, she speaks her true voice.
If you visit that forest you’ll hear meaningful words
and Ayre singing sweetly with women and birds.