Larry the Fairy craved wild gooseberry.
With nary a thought, he set out for Gooseberry Prairie.
Kerry the Fairy said he knew the way
To the gooseberry field and Gooseberry Cafe.
So Kerry and Larry set out on the ferry
Clearing the waves through the Bay of Bewary.
Once on the shore, the fairies mounted canaries.
Kerry’s was named Ray and Larry’s was Harry.
The canaries soared, squawked, sang, and played.
Their flight was a sort of gooseberry ballet.
“Onward!” Larry cried, his own wings appearing
For fairies can fly, though they’d much rather tarry.
Except when it comes to gooseberry buffets.
That’s when they’ll cross sea, land, and sky, so they say.
Indeed, rarely had Larry craved gooseberry berries.
He’d sought gooseberry jelly, gooseberry curry, even gooseberry sherry.
But this was different. He needed a gooseberry berry bouquet.
And to get it he’d travel by bird, bus, sleigh, or railway.
Nearly there, Kerry said, as they sped over the Bewary Library.
Larry could smell the gooseberries close, yes very.
“I’m on my way,” said Larry. “Everyone out of my way.
I can’t wait for gooseberry fillets, gooseberry souffle, and gooseberry sorbet.”
Down in a hurry, down with a flurry, Larry was cheery as he came down in the Prairie.
One berry, two, three berries, four. Larry gobbled and ate with a fury so merry.
“How does it taste?” Kerry asked without delay.
Barely pausing to chew, Larry said, “It tastes as great as birthdays.”
They ate and they ate until the day passed away.
Then back on their canaries, the fairies all filled with gooseberry berries, dreamed merry daydreams of their Gooseberry Day.
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