A lady of strawberry red
Rises from her earthly bed
To greet the lands anew
In the morning dew

The laughing bird calls her beyond
To the great writer’s pond
Here her slithering serpent tongue
Grows worlds of old songs sung

In a pack she will roam
To find a once lost home
On a ship in the clouds
Waiting beneath the shrouds

She waits for the right time to bare
What was taken from neverwhere
For chaos reigns in her soul
That ever consuming deep dark hole

She must hold true
And ride through the blue
Learn all she can
From poison to fan

She’s been given the truth
From the Sayers of Sooth
What a song she will sing
When her bell does ring!!

For Bec Timewell, a wise lady who preserves her creative talents for just the right moment.

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