Longing for what he thinks is not right,
His cunning eyes weighed down with queer, awful
Confusion - he cannot bear
The sight of Wendy, flying high,
Her silvery dress, just touching the sky,
Her smile - bright.. joyful.... childlike.
The sprite lets his eyes drop.
For he surely knows
It wouldn’t be right, to grow up with her.
But, then again.... “It... might..?”