The Faery Princess
By Gunslinger
I remember coffee boiling- On an old wood-burning stove. While the cabin rocked before the blast- The winter gods did blow... I was young, my early twenties- Punching cows was my desire. There were visions of a faery queen, Which slipped softly through my fire. I could see her gleaming tresses- As the flames would dance and whirl. And her smiling eyes would beckon, Promise, “I will be your girl!” In the glitter of the hoary frost- On early winter morn... I’d see glimpses of the glory- Of the gown which she had worn. So for years my search continued... As I sought to see her face- In every crowd of people, Every clime, and every place. Then reality awoke me- With, “The dream you sought is gone. You are older, but no wiser- You must ride your trail alone.” So I guess my adversary- Had my number, and it’s true- So, farewell, my Faery Princess... But I’ll die still missing you. Written January 28th, 2002 © on Jan 28 2002 03:48 AM PST, John R. Yaws 0 • 10
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"I remember coffee boiling-..."