One morn, Chunky Faery

Wakes up to find his wing bent.

He hides behind a toadstool;

No wants for laughs at him to be sent.

---

All the little faeries

Treat him like he is a monkey,

Just a butt to their jokes.

It’s not his fault that he’s chunky!

---

Soon enough he is seen.

“Chunky slept on his wing!” they cry.

Those mean little faeries!

“Chunky can’t even fly!”

---

“Yes I can!” Chunky pleads,

And off he goes into the air,

Flying so crookedly

And almost falling on a hare.

---

Giggling, they fly away,

Leaving Chunky isolated.

He wanted but a friend,

Not these faeries he so hated.

---

Suddenly, Chunky saw

Sweet Minerva walking around.

Perhaps she could help him,

Instead of being mischief bound.

---

He flies the best he can

And hopes he is only a fat dot

Floating to her parents’

Eyes, fearful that he could get caught.

---

Minerva could see him.

She looks curiously at his wing,

Wondering what happened.

Smiling, she raised her voice to sing,

---

“My poor little faery,

Who is banter, bent or broken.

I will gladly fix him.

Let it be a friendship’s token.”

---

And at that she bends him

Back to his original shape

All in a second.

Now he could only gape.

---

Amazed at what that babe

Can do, he disappears

To show off his beauty

To put those faeries into tears.