Pisky Saga - The Sock Fairy

Pisky Sagas

Because it's the long weekend, forget about the traffic jams and DIY for a while, put your feet up with a cuppa and read about The Sock Fairy courtesy of R A Kennedy...

The sock fairy she had no house to call home,
She slept in the marsh on a bed made of woe.
With one wing of silk and another of wool,
She travelled from Penzance and to Liverpool.
Three guineas per fortune and have your sock read,
Each line in the fabric, each knot in the thread.
She'd tell you your future and when you'll be dead.

Lord Muck was a Captain who came by the sea,
To seek out his future from the sock fairy.
‘And when will I sire an heir?’ He did ask
As he took off his socks, each one made of glass.
The fairy she smiled at this footwear so fine
And, resting her fingers upon the design,
She told the Lord's fortune from gossamer lines.

‘A father of none is what is in store.
And a lord of the manor you shall be no more.’
Lord Muck was outraged, ‘But what can this mean?
You must be mistaken and haven't yet seen.’
The sock fairy sighed and knew what was next,
With a flick of her wings and fingers a-flex
She smashed up the socks, stabbing him in the neck.

‘The socks never lie, always telling me true’
As she watched the lord wriggle in spewing red goo.
Then cleaning her hands of the blood and the gore
She waited until there was movement no more.
The sock fairy took to her wings in the skies,
Soaring and swooping til with eyes open wide,
Something unusual sock fairy spied.

A basket of laundry sat alone by a shed,
No one was in sight, not even the dead.
The sock fairy landed and checked round once more,
Called out a ‘Hello?’ and knocked on the door.
The basket was full of socks so bright,
Some of them smelly and others alright,
So sock fairy made it her home for the night.

She rubbed at her wings and in the basket she leapt
But she didn’t know that there someone else slept
A blanket-beast surfaced and it looked appalled,
'Who upsets my sleep?' the blanket-beast called
As it gazed at the fairy wings fluttering on.
'Get away from here, shoo, little fairy begone,
Or suffer my wrath and my sharp cotton prongs!'

The sock fairy quietly pondered her fate,
Quick thinking was her grace and her strongest trait.
The socks in the basket, her trophy was large,
And so when the beast was distracted, she charged.
Armed with two sharp blades of grass she did fly,
Ignoring the danger, intent on her prize
Making straight for the monster and straight for its eye.

The blanket-beast roared out with all of his might
But he was to dine on no fairy tonight.
With a swish and a schwack the blades they cut deep,
from the top of the head right down to its feet.
The stuffing came pouring like milk from an urn,
It looked like the fairy had won this sojourn
but quickly she tired and 'twas the monster’s turn.

The tail of the beast constricted her tight,
Swallowing her whole and draining her fight.
The monster laughed with such terrible glee,
Tonight he would chew on the wings of fairy.
The sock fairy struggled, she spat and kicked,
It seemed all was over, all gone in a stitch.
But sock fairy wasn’t so easily licked.

The fairy was clever, as it is well known,
And summoned her magic from deep in her bones.
With a flash and a bang the fairy was freed,
Laughing so hard at the monster's defeat.
The monster lay moaning, a smouldering sigh
Of blanket and stuffing and watering eyes
As it tried to escape its own looming demise.

The sock fairy smiled, the treasure was won,
And as she jumped in, she held up each one.
But something was wrong, the socks were all wet,
As if they’d been washed or perhaps they had wept?
The fairy had ended their terrible plight
And surely this was cause for joyous delight.
So why were the socks such a terrible sight?

Then came a voice from the base of the pile.
The fairy awaited great thanks with a smile.
But ‘Where's our daddy?’ asked the sock, with a tear.
It would be fairy's duty to subdue its fear.
So bending down low to the sock she did tell
‘There, there little sock. Do not fret, all is well,
I have freed you all from the blanket beast hell.’

The sock turned and witnessed the smouldering heap,
And screamed enough to wake the dead from their sleep.
‘YOU MURDERED OUR DADDY!’ The sock gave a howl,
And alerted the others to the slaying most foul.
‘Daddy, oh daddy!’ the gathering cried,
Some clambered the embers, revive him they tried
But all to no good, the beast really had died.

The sock fairy hesitated with her words,
But sorry would not be enough for those hurts.
Each sock from the basket spoke to the next
And what happened then, you would never had guessed.
The socks organized themselves into a mass,
Each one had a function and each one harassed.
With courage she faced them with her swords of grass.

With a loud cry of grief the sock-muster charged
And chased the sock fairy around the backyard.
The sock fairy leaped and she flipped in the air,
One swipe of her blades cleaved the mass into pairs.
But then before they could get back up to fight,
With all of her magic and all of her might,
The fairy blew one of each pair to the night.

Copyright R A Kennedy 2016