Staring, Eyes Burning, At The Magic Vision.... Poem by Margaret Alice

Forlorn, Sulky Princess sat in front
of her magical spinning loom, she
was to spin all the straw into gold,
but she had no taste for her work;
dreaming of moonstones with a
soft pearly shine; she did not want
to work with things hard and cold
such as gold; if only Rumpelstiltzken
were there to spin straw into gold!
She dreamt of a prince that would
come if she pricked her finger on
the magical loom – he would follow
the ley-lines that connected magic
medieval places in England and
beyond – even into heathen France;
waking her with a kiss should she
fall asleep as her finger was pricked;
but then she sighed; looked at the
bales of straw all around; remembering
that England abounds with fairies and
magic crop circles - and saw a vision
of fairies taking her there; a strange
fairy king kissing all her tears away,
then dancing a fiery fairy mazurka...
That is where Sulky Princess is now,
dancing away with the Fairy King;
not a word did she say; only staring,
eyes burning, at the magic vision....