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A hope
A dream
A destiny
…and Fern.

Fern
The fiery-haired youth
Fighting against the prejudices
Battling through the trees
Surviving the drone of bees

To give a message
To her beloved people
That the cure was located
Mapped out
To bring an end to the fever bout.

Struggling up the tallest mountain
Ducking from the most fearsome vultures
Braving the wildest winds
Taming the most vicious of beasts
Longing for magical feasts.

At last she found it
The lost cave
Of Death
But the chilling mud
Asked for a sacrifice of blood.

So Fern
Just seventeen
Gave the monster
Her beloved hand
But he wrapped it round his finger like a band.

As the villagers
Lay dying
As the stream grew old arrived
A message in a bottle, a reward…
For above Fern’s head was a sword.

The villagers
Grew stronger
The stream lay young
But little Fern
Was forced from this life to turn.

The new village tradition
Sang out Fern’s name
In peace and harmony
Created a monument in gold
That spoke of the most bold.

And so November 5th
Became known instead as Fern’s day
To represent her hair the colour of fire
And her spirit so bright
Gleaming with might.

Fern’s day ensured
Her legacy lived on forever:

Fern: forgotten never; remembered ever.




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