FAIRY BATTLE

The fairies are battling:
trumpets are shrilling,
blackbeetles are neighing;
the grass is aflame,
Savaged with thistles,
their guts lying open,
young elves lie a-dying.
In agony sweating,
the wounded are crawling
from under the hooves
of the cockchafers trampling.
Away on a molehill
the generals are watching
the battle progressing,
and, squeaking and twittering,
planning a charge.