A book never finished,
Rests by her side.
Never a stir neither a sigh,
She breathes deeply and surely,
That’s the only possible way to know she’s alive.





She’s been sleeping a very long time,
So long that ivy has begun to grow
Upon her book.
Who knows how long it has grown?
Who knows how long it will continue to grow?
The answer to that question we may never know.



Even though a light shines on,
Her face will forever be hidden.
She dreams and dreams,
On and on.
What does she dream?
Is it about her book or maybe,
It’s about memories long forgotten.






She seems to be a sleeping beauty,
Just waiting for her prince.
No prince has come,
Maybe none will come,
Today or ever.





Let the beauty sleep,
Sleep those wonderful dreams.
Before the realms of reality,
Start to seep through.
When they do,
They’ll most likely take control.




Leaving childhood behind,
Growing up to start a family
Of your own.