They talk of fairytales in day
Of sweet scenes of a summer May
I’d sit there listening thinking why
In the morning sun she didn’t cry
Whose cheeks went pink
At the slightest brush of sun
A fairytale lover…she couldn’t be one
Her life was all about grey and white
In it there was no knight to fight
No gallop, No gowns, No Parties, No Towns
Where she lived there was mist profound
She play with the moon in eve and night
And wander without a trace of light
She’d known not May but December
The chills and the snow she did remember
In the face of snow she’d throw a smile
And then sit by the river for some while
To look it in the face and see
The water so still..was it captive or free?
Her scarf she’d wrap on the glistening river
To see the mirror of stars shiver
She wanted one glued to her ensemble
That the evening skies it would resemble
And every failed pursuit she’d weave
Into a cloth that wouldn’t sieve
Hell bent on catching the stars
She traversed through the moors afar
Left the river by its side
Somewhere in the hills to hide
The thing that never stopped to dwell
Was glistening snow and Christmas bell
She waited for her winter gift
With wonder that her heart would fill
Sitting on the wooden roof
She waited for the fiddler to sing
She waited for the winds to blow
She waited for the slithering snow..
And lo! The stars came shining down
Like flowers and flakes and love abound!
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