The Bell Bell Trees

The Bell Bell Fruit in the Bell Bell Trees

sang a song that reached across the sea.

And across the sea was a girl of three,

who listened to the singing of the Bell Bell Trees.

From across that sea she danced and played,

beside the trees that rustled and swayed

but sang no song, to her dismay.

She’d heard the tales of the island far

and wished to be where the Bell Bells are,

but Momma said that she couldn’t go,

and the little girl was filled with woe.

With a mind so young and a soul so old,

she longed but stayed as she was told.

And then one day on that shore so bright,

her eye caught sight of an island sprite.

A little thing with wings that flew.

Her jaw went slack as near it grew,

and she backed away and was filled with fear,

as that pretty island sprite grew near.

It flew across that sandy shore.

With a hand outreached it did implore:

“The Tree! The Tree! You’ve heard the Tree!

And yet, I bet you’ve not seen me!

Would you like to sail out there?

The sea looks calm, the waves look fair!”

The girl replied, “But, I can’t swim,”

and her face grew sad, and the sprite grew grim.

“Swim? Swim?! Who said to swim?!

I’ve never heard such a foolish whim!

I’ve made a boat for us to sail,

we’ll make it there, we shall not fail!”

The girl she looked over to her right

and gasped at what lay in plain sight.

A boat, a row boat, on the shore!

How had she not seen that before?

She ran across the sandy beach

until the boat was in her reach

and climbed inside and took her seat

upon the bench and swung her feet.

“They sang, they sang! Oh, how they sang!”

The nimble sprite began to claim.

“They chirped and chipped, and hummed and quipped!

As the winds they blew and the boughs they dipped.”

The girl of three, she squealed with glee,

to hear the tale of the Bell Bell Trees.

And though she’d known the sprite not long,

she did believe in the Bell Bell’s song.

And now the sprite she trusted so,

and the magic boat began to row.

The oars did rise and they did fall,

although she touched them not at all.

Across the sea then they did glide,

as waves crashed harshly by their side. T

The sea stayed calm within their path

and gave them such an easy pass.

The Bell Bell island, they soon reached.

The pretty sprite began her speech:

“Welcome! Welcome! You small child!

I must say it’s been a while,

since a human here did row.

But now the Bell Bell Trees can grow.

Please, I ask, stay in your seat,

while my master I do reach.”

In that boat the girl did stay,

for all she knew was to obey.

Except, of course, in this great task,

to reach the Bell Bell Trees at last.

Her feet, their sway, it become small,

until they did not sway at all.

Her chest got tight as the sun got low

on this island that she did not know.

She watched the Tree from her magic boat,

until the sprite returned to gloat:

“My master does now to you come,

to take you to the tree you love.

You’ll hear its song and find your glee

and from your row boat you will see,

the mirth and joy I promised thee.

You’ll see the Tree, finally.”

Then there a cloud of smoke did grow

and where to go she didn’t know.

The girl sat tight with her head sunk low

while filled with fear of the unknown.

And then the smoke it did disperse

right then she knew things would get worse.

Because the boat then sprang a leak

and a witch appeared that then did speak.

A podium of tree roots thick,

formed right before the wicked witch.

“My dear, please know you cannot stray!

Dear sprite, I thank you for this prey!

From this here stand I deem you mine,

and from your youth I will now dine!

My Bell Bell Trees, yes, aren’t they sweet?

Their music comes from those I meet!

Rise from the boat, my young, sweet dear,

and come to me, come closer near.”

By fault that was not the girl’s own,

she rose up from her row boat throne.

And though she now wished to go home,

she strode her way to the old crone.

The crone, she leaned there on the stand

that rose up from the darkened sand.

And that old crone’s hand gripped her chin

and then she knew she could not win.

She could not hear the Bell Bells sing,

she only heard the angry wind.

A cackle echoed in her ears,

and that such noise confirmed her fears.

And as the sun began to fall,

beside the witch she felt so small.

She thought she knew what she did need,

yet that island held only greed.

The Bell Bell Fruit on the Bell Bell Trees

sing a song that reaches across the sea.

And with that tree is a girl of three,

who longs to escape her dear Bell Bell Trees.