Bet

Odie O'Dool hath been a fool, soaked in drool, he dreamt of jewels

He dreamt of land and castle keep, where all he loved could safely sleep

A world of plenty, lush and green, with milk and honey, for all, for free

But dreams dissolved into the dirt, and waking brought a deeper hurt

He tried to move but felt no grip, no hand, no foot, no knee, no hip

These thoughts would haunt his inner shell, a ghost afloat in a mortal well

88 Blue Morpho's, fluttered into the sky, from an infernal forest fire, whose wings were laced with eyes

They circled down and graced the ground, where silence screamed without a sound

"I cannot build, I cannot rise, there's nothing I can do for you - just leave me here to die."

A Morpho blinked and bowed its brow, then turned into a spud somehow

"Kind host," it said, "your pain we feel, our house became a fire's meal."

"Can we build here? We'll build for you. We heard your dream - we dream it too."

Odie thought, "Of course you can, I'm sorry I'm a crippled man."

The elves began their quiet toil, with hands like wind and hearts like soil

Each timber hummed with hidden lore, each stone aligned with something more

"You're not a crippled man," an elven tater spoke, "You're the hearth and flame within the earth, a heart that beats for hope."

"A home begins inside your chest, and grows in grandeur as you bless. This land was yours, and now it's ours, we'll work the land, for every hour."

As sparks of light began to spin, Odie felt a warmth within

He could not move, but he could see, and as he hoped, they built his dream.

The shack they made was shaped like thought, a dwelling where all fears were caught

Within the shack, they made a well, where fears would go, straight down to hell.

And though he lay in silence vast, Odie had a home at last