In a place where secrets lie
and rest their heads on beds of dreams
she sleeps in tangled weave.
In a place were the sun shines not
shadows gather to dance and cavort
she weaves a tangled skein.
In a place were the fae bones rest
covered in moss and sorrow
she threads the knuckles to chime on the breeze.
A place were dragons chase the dusk away
dancing across dandelions in rampant fun
Her eye ajar in cat-like sliver.
A place were the satyrs sing
a merry jig of addling ale
Her memories stir from long lost times.
A place were bold adventures come
with bright steel and hearty tales
She sows the seeds of fame and fortune
watered with blood and tears
a fruit worth plucking from its tree.
She calls as friend and drinks as foe.