“A series of fortunate and unfortunate events”

Along a crooked village lane,  
Where sunlight splashes after rain,  
A child set out with dreams to chase  
And laughter bright upon her face.

First, fortune waved with gentle hand:  
A butterfly perched on her strand—  
Its wings, sapphire, stitched with gold—  
A fluttering omen, so bright and bold.

Then mischief struck: her shoelace frayed,  
She tumbled down in leafy shade,  
Her knee scraped raw, her spirit sore,  
Would sunshine gleam for her once more?

She hobbled on, determined still,  
And saw the baker down the hill—  
He smiled, he winked, he gave her bread,  
Warm and soft, with crusty thread.

Yet as she ate, a drizzle fell,  
The sky grew dark as iron bell;  
Her bread was soggy, rain ran wild,  
But safe at home her mother smiled.

She dried her hair and shared her tale—  
Of lift and slip, of sun and hail;  
How lucky and unlucky dance,  
In every day we take a chance.

So fortune's favor, mishap’s spite,  
Turn round and round from dark to light;  
A patchwork quilt, our paths conflate—  
Each twist and turn, a woven fate.

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