On love of little words.

I love little words, don't you? You'll come upon a flock of these spirit-fairies in a forest of words, carpeting the forest floor. They are iridescent beauties, these sub-atomic particles of ideas, and they are breathtakingly beautiful. They dart here and there, fleet and colorful. Little words are so familiar; you think you know them. If one word takes notice of you, it will stop in its tracks, hyperventilating, trembling with fear. Standing beside them, you are a huge hulking creature from a alien planet. But if you stand very still, eventually the little word will regain its composure and alacrity, swirling around your head with gleeful cries like a child on an amusement ride. Yes, you think you know them, but you can't begin to know what they can become when you conjure them into necklaces and bracelets, adornments for your beloved.