Plink was always warned to wear her shoes.
Her mums would say, “If you don’t you’ll lose
Your toes to nails or bees or you’ll meet
A boorish grumpkin who’ll gladly eat your feet.”

But feet stayed bare till a deep field stirred
And something so much worse occurred.
(Or better, depending on your view.
Funny how my likes might not be true for you.)

Every green thing growing in that field
Adored the feel of feet unpeeled
Of awful straps all trapping
Little jailed piggies in need of unwrapping.

When that field felt unfurled toes
It grew straight up into her bones.
Her feet became a grassy green
And flowers crowned her like a queen.

Plink put down roots and threw up branches
With golden leaves and berries in bunches.
She’s now home to birds, bugs and squirrels,
Who knew shoe losing would flip worlds?

Her mums still tries to keep her trimmed,
But Plink was never known as prim.
That field will never give her back
And Plink is happiest with that.


Drawn by Jen