Faerie Queen // Prose

I am a child of the oak and maple forests of the east, of rich trees and secret rivers, rushing, cold.  Will you hike up-current with me?  Galoshes mean dry knees. A plastic baggie holds a sandwich, a thermos, my tea.    We will find the hidden island, obscured by the weeds, there is moss to sit upon, and we can climb the trees?  A sketchbook holds my memories, a pencil is in my hand, I can remember this for always (but hold still please).  Take this bit of string, we can fish for our lunch, I haven't ever caught anything, don't worry too much (I have turkey and cheese).  Come quick, be quiet, you don't want them to find us!  I'll be on lookout, and make our flower crowns, you can set the table, and warm up the tea.  Isn't it nice?  This is my land, and I am the faerie-queen.