Fairy Marigold was sad, the garden flowers were mostly dead.
She sheltered by a holly tree “This is no place for me” she said.
“What was it I was told to do? To go inside and find a tree
It might have coloured baubles on but that should be the place for me.”
She flew into a nearby house. It really wasn’t very far.
There, sure enough, a green tree stood and, on the top, a silver star.
“Oh dear,” she thought, “That looks too grand, I’ll have to find another home
That needs a fairy on their tree or else my purpose is not done.”
All day she flies along the street until she sees a lonely lad
A tree upon his bicycle, looking so poor and tired and sad.
“I’ve got some tinsel,” he declares,”I’m sorry Mum, please do not shout
There’s nothing else to trim the tree on Christmas Eve, they’ve all sold out.”
They put it up and went to bed and Marigold was thrilled to stay
Perched high upon their simple tree to give them joy on Christmas Day.