In her green castles...

Image courtesy : Google , thanks to the photographer

Like the enchanted princess of  some distant lands,

For whom  many princes have run errands

Her name was scribed in the golden runs of hands

In her praise had quoted bards with bands

The green veils that covered her countenance from time

were slowly torn to dust by primes

The golden crests of her thorny crown
bled all blood to the roosts around
Her lips, the sweetest of  brims
Like the chirp of birds, she sang
And the laughter, her ephemeral dream
Was shattered to a little scream...

And yet alone, when she bore her men
They blunted her course to a fallow.
She, herself the fairest of all who dreamt
Her children had born thoughts narrow.
Through the green shrubs that marked her lakes
And the forts on the brown black hills,
She fled all along the timeless hopes
And yet could find none

Those feet of gold, fairest in time
were now reduced to crumbs
And her wooden touch had fallen to steel
And all her strength dead with trust.

She your mother, So is mine
We share something common,
A trust of time
A trust of hope, that tomorrow shall be bold
And yet in the very permanence of time she dwells
She dwells in a palace of life
Saving those narrow paths of glee
Shall avail felicity prime...

Image from google, thanks to the designer