The Dying Poet's Dream

Faeries and Lace

There was time when I was a girl,
Laden with lace and bright golden curls.
I danced on the grass
And felt the winds pass
As I fell to the ground in silence.
I would look to the sky and think to myself
What a faerie would like... maybe an elf?
When the sun touched me gently upon the face
I would lie in the grass, in my favorite place
Among the flowers and bees.
Sometimes I thought I could see
The bright and playful faeries
Dancing and prancing along the trees!
Rhiannon can be see with them, I thought.
And this, my dear friend, I thought quite a lot!
Her hair was like mine and her skin so fair,
She was like a daisy and none could compare.