Stained your dress as their waist high glory, gilded the afternoon.
Small bosky places were filled with mystery and became in turn
Caves, palaces and dungeons deep as deep, and an old oak stump a castle keep.
Blue distance on a hazy August day, a faraway land where perhaps,
A fairy Queen held sway. Perhaps in that strange distance
Elephants and lions roared and ruled .Another day, Red Indian brave, s stalked
The soft eyed deer, or terrible dragon, s walked.
Nothing lost upon a child’s eye, bright as a robin’s and as quick
To see anything good berries for a crown and golden wheat straw.
Apples, ransom for a King or a fearless outlaws hoard,
Won with great valour and a wooden sword.
Tell me now, what is it that you see, over by the woods edge
Arthur’s seat perhaps or just an old dead tree?
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