A 40 line poem written for Poetic Traditions, October 2019
| She Runs!
She runs! She flees!
Headed now towards the trees,
at first they are quite sparsely scattered,
but soon the ground becomes more tattered.
The light fades, becomes more dim,
as she puts a distance between her and him;
her pace continues, going fast,
but it's not something that can last.
Through the trees where they do part,
she's bound now for the forest's heart.
Her pulse does pound, her breath a gasp...
she's bound now on the magic path.
The trees are ancient, gnarled with roots,
her step is steady in her boots;
until she pauses, stares with wonder -
all her beliefs now torn asunder.
Before her there's a dragon, small,
but big enough to her enthral.
Tiny fireflies glitter bright,
a closer look brings her delight.
For no fireflies are they,
but winged creatures; they are fae!
Whirls of color, rainbow hues,
inviting so she can't refuse
a cup held out for her to drink -
she hovers now, above the brink...
The cup she lifts up to her lips
and sweet the nectar of those sips.
No turning back, she's made her choice;
never again to hear his voice.
She's done it! She's escaped his grasp
no more terror does her clasp.
Another world behind the veil
has come to rescue and avail
a whole new world, a breath of life
where she'll be safe from further strife.
A different world where she will linger,
towards a home the fae will bring her;
time unravels round her feet
as her absorption is complete.