There's a place where cunning folk live...
Way out on the marsh land.
They wear hag stone jewellery
On every finger of every hand.
Each born on a chiming hour
Ghostly presences they seek,
Willo the wisp type ones
Wanting to give treasure a peek.
There, they live with brownies,
Who clean their daily spoils.
How I long to be a cunning folk...
But i've not got the magic in which to toil.
©Odd
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Just a some what "odd" girl, living in what feels like a glass box. Hello Opuss, the savour of my sanity. my little private world amongst a life of being watched and watching.
Beware of the witch, Flying on her broomstick, Off to cast a spell. With her black cat, And extra pointy hat, You'll be look to come out well.
Part 3 The women stood up her long golden hair swirling down her back in curly patterns. Her eyes were slanted and the same honey colour as those of Pearlia's.
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