Tangle

Tangle skips to spring bare feet,
neath blossom blooms to dance and leap,
to Bluebell tunes within her dreams,
midst Cherry petals on the breeze.
Tangle’s ridden mad March Hares,
to Elfin kingdoms Faery fairs,
A Hawk whose feathers in her hair,
guides her home so she may share.
If you’ve respect then she may tell,
of folklore lost and Faery spells,
so listen gently, listen well,
and you may hear her Bluebell bells.

by Fleas

Filed under Poetry & Prose |