In widow's weave, They met in the dusk of Hallow's Eve, She had daisies in her hair. I simply fell into that opening verse. It leaked onto the keyboard from my fingertips. But I need to step back a minute to explain how a writer falls into a book. The egg cracks open.
New life emerges.
And then the answering emotion that taps within, sometimes days, weeks, years later. The moment they come together, the story starts. So what was it that pecked inside and outside that caused me to write a children's story in verse about the friendship between a boy from fairyland and a human girl from a farm. This was not to be a love affair, but a true friendship which they seal with gifts that are both magical and real. But they end up visiting back and forth for the rest of their lives.