a story of a mischievous tooth

In a cozy nook of the countryside's lap,
Lived a young lass with a small mishap.
Her tooth, once firm, now wobbled free,
A tiny white pearl from the mouth's open sea.

With a wiggle and a waggle, it danced on her gum,
Till it tumbled out, leaving her glum.
The girl, in dismay, with a sorrowful sigh,
Tried to push it back in, but oh, how it did defy!

Each attempt to replant it, like planting a cloud,
Left her more forlorn, her spirits unbowed.
Her eyes, twin pools of stormy regret,
Mirrored a heart in a gloomy duet.

The tooth, mischievous, would not stay put,
Slipping away like a dream underfoot.
In her palm, it lay quiet, a bone-white crescent moon,
A symbol of childhood departing too soon.

At last, to her mum, she revealed her plight,
Her voice a soft whisper, her face ghostly white.
Her mother, with a smile, spun a tale so airy,
Of a magical being known as the tooth fairy.

"A fairy so kind, with a purse full of coin,
Will visit tonight, your spirits to join.
Leave the tooth 'neath your pillow, and while you sleep tight,
She'll whisk it away, by the silvery moonlight."

The girl's heart, once heavy, now fluttered with glee,
As she imagined the fairy, as busy as a bee.
And so, with her tooth tucked snugly in bed,
She dreamed of the fairy, her worries all shed.

And the girl and her mischievous tooth, it's clear,
Lived happily ever after, year to year.