A secret poem – Scott Rankin 4/5/14

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.