dragon's wings and willow's tears

whispered on a faerie's breath

sing of fearful dreams unuttered

in the silence of the dawn

filled with wretching coughing motors

english breakfast tea and scones

set out for the caterpillar

in the green hazed misty morn

shining through her dusty bird cage

burning like the sea on fire

incandescent moonbeams travel

Around this splintered dollhouse town

where she rises from her fiction

tiptoes down the ceiling fans

to the fresh brewed sounds of coffee

mirrored in the rising sun

glinting through her looking glass

she sees a fresh bloomed faerie maid

with emerald eyes and pointed ears

and lucid flower petal gown

which hangs so soft upon the remnants

of her fading opulence

and sighing like the wind's caress

slips to the mossy carpet world

in which all dragons shed their fangs

and weeping willows mourn no more

but dance and sway so fancifully

to the faerie goddess song

hearkening to inward voices

walking through her wonderland

she steps into the busy traffic

in the silence of the dawn