A tooth was loose within my head.

If prodded or pulled, some times it bled.

It’ll make good bait, when I go to bed.

For I want to snare the Tooth Fairy.

Why the Tooth Fairy? I hear you say.

She leaves us a coin, for the tooth to pay.

And it would be a very sad day,

if she wasn’t there to do so.

I don’t want to keep her long, you see.

I just want to know who she can be.

For it all seems very strange to me,

that she knows who has a tooth loose.

So instead of foil and paper tissue,

I’m going to coat it with sticky glue

and while she tries her swap to do,

I’ll catch her and ask some questions.

Can’t you see the look on her face.

When the coin for tooth she tries to replace

and it sticks to her fingers with out a trace.

And her struggles wake me up.

I’ll catch her gently and quietly say.

“Please tell me fairy, why do you pay

and how do you know which child’s tooth may,

be waiting under a pillow?”

She will pout and pretend to cry.

Or yell and scream, perhaps quietly lie,

before she tells me the secret why,

she knows whose tooth will be next.

I’ll smile and help her fly away.

So she may work another day.

While her secret in my heart will stay,

with a memory of the Tooth Fairy.

 
 
David Garlick, Victoria, February, 1990