The Storm-Flower

by Hazel , age 9

When I walked up the street,

I was pelted with falling sleet,

Then it began to rain,

And then start to sleet again,

I thought the weather was going crazy,

So I asked my friend Maisy,

She said "it is the pot,

Of the Quangle Wangle Quot,

It controls the weather,

And is lined with heather,

It's usually filled with stormflowers,

And that is why there are so many showers",

I found that the Storm-flowers were all rotten,

And there wasn't even a fresh one at the bottom,

So I set off to find Storm-flowers,

I picked them for twenty-four hours,

When I had the lot,

I put them in the pot,

I wondered how a simple flower,

Could have so much power,

So I peeled the petals back,

In it was a small blue sack,

In that was a fairy,

Who was ever so hairy,

Now the hairy fairy and I are friends,

And that is how my poem ends.