Her genius scattered about the floor,
Like crisp, autumn leaves,
Whose season long ceased.
Behold, she sings no more.
And the angels of fairyland
Danced lightly to her side;
They gave her wings so she could fly.
The brilliant wings flittered and fluttered
Till she wakened in a glorious wonder,
Reached out with a slender, pale hand
And stepped into the dream.
Garbed in sheets of satin and silk,
She whirled in a clearing of does and hares,
And awed them with her stunning glory;
Unveiled to the world her grace and airs.
Then, bending to touch the cold lake surface,
She sank into a pitch, black night.
Slowly… falling… as if trapped in time…
Glistening scales caught her flight.
Their icy touch numbed her skin as
A dragon swept her through the emptiness.
And the world exploded as, just like stars,
Soaring spirits lit the darkness.
Teeming with life, all silver and gold,
They crowded her until it seemed
They were the sky itself.
And they ferried her into the depths
To visit her world again.
Opening her eyes for the second time
She looked towards the clouds
And, seeing, dragons,