A Sprite Poem by james watkin

I can almost feel round her
As her outline to trace.
Glance down what, flashes, hair-spilt
Sunlight tones of no place!

A kerchief over it worn.
Over her waist, the bee's
An apron. Unbearably to boot
But sweetens what one sees!

All last Spring's watercolours
All last Spring's floating glades
Of daffodils, her hand-swept
Gilding artifice wades.

Her pallete is a rainbow.
And brushing anemone
Is itself a girlish dab
Of frilly levity.