24 January 2013
A faerie at a waterfall With no name herself to call She wishes on the changing wind Her eyes the swirling leaves enthrall.
Puffs of dandelion seeds That sweep and bob along the breeze Glowing white as if alive Her desires tossed about with these.
She sits clothed in woodland green Her face in solemn majesty All alone upon a stone By the fall, she looks a queen.
But as the seeds go sailing past, Her indecisiveness is cast Like leaves a-rustle on the breeze- Her many thoughts she tries to grasp.
Her brown hair tendrils freely wave Her eyes like tiger's, pointed, brave But no adversary near To face her sharp determined gaze.
She sits alone, one in the wood And weighs the options, bad and good What this, what that, what if, what then, Lost in thought, to what she would.
Opuss № I