Flower Fables, Part 3 of 7
The Sleepy Bookshelf
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The Little Flower, the Little One, the Roses
Thistle, as he lay idly in the shadow of the tree, my little bud is not yet strong enough to venture forth. The rose mother implored the cruel fairy to leave her little bud untouched. But thistledown, heedless of the sorrow he had given, spread his wings and flew away. Soon the sky grew dark adheavy drops began to fall. Then thistle hastened to the lily, for her cup was deep, and the white leaves fell like curtains over the fragrant bed. He was a dainty little elf and could not sleep among the clovers and bright buttercups.
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