Molten Poetry

Let it burn.

I made a pact
with the Fey Queen.

A timeless dance
among the Fey things.

The faerie creatures…
they made me
sing and prance

as their plaything.

I would give it all
for one more chance,
to take in mine,
Mab’s clawed hand,
and have our dance,
the compact writ,
by the Queen’s command,
her timeless gift.

In Mab’s arms,
I am forever spinning.

In the dance’s madness,
I am forever grinning.

The promise made.
The promise kept.

Into the moss
of my gnarled cheek,

the Lonely Queen,



©️ Tenpenny, 2019.

The image is a real forest called Wistman’s Wood, in Dartmoor, Devon, England. When I saw the picture, my mind went to a favorite subject – the Fey of the old world. Can you see them in the image? If you’ve visited Wistman’s Wood, please tell me about it!

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