Maegan lost her steed as she slept under an oak tree one summer’s eve in the country of Wales. He was no standard steed, as indeed neither was she, as she was a winsome fairy maiden. Her true love had carved him of the most precious wood then gifted it to her the day they were betrothed. She could have wept, but knew it was quite useless, so she searched through the forest and the towns ’til he was found. He was on a dull pavement impaled on a pole in front of a pub, her anger knew no bounds. So she ranted in rage, threw fairy dust around (the town shook in a quake ’til all were afraid) then Maegan took off with a bound on her steed; neither were seen there again.
© G.s.k. ‘15