Hands high in her dress,

The maiden wanders,

In the mist of the glen,

Humming a sacred ponder.

 

Faeries flowing anxieously,

Followed by boastful hares,

So bound in eloquence,

Sweet as a sunlit glare.

 

Her blanket atop,

Fur of an infant kitten,

Her eyes walking the ancient grounds,

As her dreams began to glisten.

 

Tranquillity absorbed out of place,

Winds calling to her ears,

Her suprise tooken aback,

Discombobulation of sound, queer.

 

Cries of birds for they flee,

Nature pouring into the valley,

Terror, in a foreign fray,

Harps in minors, screaming broken strings.

 

Diminishing the frantic beatings,

Soft vibrarations on the bowl of her neck,

Singing a lullaby of engrams past,

Caressing the voices erect.