Wild briar rose,Sun soaked face,
Petals as sheer as fine lace;
Like a dancer on tip toes
Wearing silky pink bows,
Suddenly a brazen breeze
Brings a helter shelter of
Forlorly marooned in scented dew.
Small heart translucent face,
Peeping shyly through downy lace.
Awakened by a sour biting breeze,
Which makes her cower, she
Curls up, sheltering under boughs
Of mighty beech trees.
Suddenly a shower of frosty crystals
Adorn the mysterious, tearful princess,
Crowning her with a spectacular tiara
As the dryad minstrels play their lyres.
Through wild woods,
Parting shimmering drapes,
Greeted by a fanning of tiny hands
Seated next to dryads wrapped in cosy ruby capes.
Swirling dervlas swish folksy skirts,
Weaving dreamily through silver birches.
Waiting for woodland girl to emerge, her gown tinged with whispers
of pearly tears.
The audience sighs!
Queen of the forest has arrived!