Let me tell you of this girl and her prose
The glasses she perched on the end of her nose
Hair set in curls, soft and wanly quite red
She looked like a library perched on its head
She endlessly quoted from tolkein et al.
How mystics and kings and the devil all fall
Banners and woodland and mountains unfurled
A trail of adventure that scissored her world
Yet listening, I couldn't help but lament
That we've given up all our dragons for lent
And our fish, unlike the ones in her book
All end their lives juxtaposed by a hook
You could ask me if I knew where she's now
I'd toss up my shoulders and wrinkle my brow
She's gone on, disapeared in the murk
Into the dark where our memories lurk
Still I see magic whereever I go
There's hardly a dam that could hold back this flow
Endless the landscape dreamed up by this lass
The places we go when it's our time to pass.
