From dreams to sleep she drifts between,
Where visions dance of what has been,
In symbols marked by fates decree,
What strange things will she see?

Visions of old, or something new?
Connected thoughts of me and you?
Under light of lonely moon,
Bathed in pale and longing hue.

Or maybe wild chaotic fun?
Dancing with fairies to belief of none,
Perhaps there she’ll meet a king,
Both proud and twisted, a scheming thing.

And there they strike a bargain deal,
To a baser nature will he appeal,
To make a star of boring youth,
And place her next to lonely moon.

All to wish that she had not,
As lovely dreams are all but lost,
And in their place a nightmare state,
As startled sound jolts her to wake.

For hours there she longs and yearns,
For land of dreams to please return,
She thinks of him, the fairy king,
And casts aside the suffering,

Surely it was only dream,
You can’t make real a mythic thing,
Hours pass and she ventures back,
To the wonder of a dancing pack.

Around a throne of golden trim,
They make a play at behest of him,
They pause at her, but carry on.
For none dare cross great Oberon.

She takes a step and suddenly,
From behind a curtain she bounds and leaps.
“Great fairy king, ‘tis I you seek,
For a hand in marriage I offer thee.”

As if compelled she speaks the words,
With puzzled look as they are heard,
And walks onto the center stage,
As other actors seemed to fade.

All at once both there and gone,
Appears the great king Oberon,
To take her hand and lead away,
As per the deal that there was made.

An instant passed and there they were,
Amongst the stars above the earth,
And with a smile the king declared,
“Let no one say I am not fair.”

She cried in fear and looked around,
But from her lips there came no sound,
Too late she saw what she’d become,
A star opposed to glowing sun.

All to wish that she was not,
As lovely dreams had all been lost,
And in their place a nightmare state,
As startled sound jolts her to wake.

She looked up then towards the sky,
To catch a twinkling in her eye,
A lone star she’d never seen,
Had taken place where none had been.

For hours there she longed and yearned,
For land of dreams to please return,
She thought of him, the fairy king,
But cast aside her suffering,

Surely it was only dream?
You can’t make real a mythic thing!
Hours pass and she ventures back,
To the wonder of a dancing pack.