Breena's Faery Prince

 

There’s a lass in the town over yonder

Who’s as daft as she can be;

She roams the fields and forests dark

And climbs in all the trees.

 

Her hair is bright as sunset’s glow,

Her eyes as green as jewels;

“She’s lovely yes, but crazy, too!”—

They’re whispering, the fools.

 

She’s told them of her visions bright,

And of the faery folk;

But they just cannot understand,

And say it’s all a joke.

 

She pleads with them to listen well,

Her green eyes fill with tears;

It’s happened time and time again—

Their laughs ring in her ears.

 

Then stands she up, so firm of face

And form, their laughter dies;

She stands before them all and speaks,

With fire in her eyes.

 

“I’ve warned you once, and twice, and thrice,

But shan’t do so again.

The faery folk are coming soon—

They’re marching from the glen!”

 

The people stir, and look around,

Their faces full of fear;

The lass has ne’er done this before

In all her fifteen years.

 

Then comes the sound of faery horn,

And marching from the hill;

The girl looks ‘round, and takes a breath,

As all the people still.

 

The faery come from o’er the ridge,

Their banners flying bright;

The prince who leads them all comes forth,

His palfrey black as night.

 

He rides up to the maiden fair,

And takes her small pale hand;

Then pulls her up behind him

And addresses all the land.

 

“For years you’ve never heard her warn

Of what would come to pass,

And now you stand there pale and drawn

And frozen in the grass.

 

“I’ll take my lovely Breena now,

To Faery lands so fair,

And make this dazzling maid my bride,

With flowers in her hair.”

 

And then, with scarce a backward glance,

He told the faery folk,

“Take up your torches, hold them high!

And turn this town to smoke.”

 

His words were heeded as he stopped

And glanced around the town;

The people looked to be asleep

With jaws all hanging down.

 

The faery folk who followed him

Had taken on the glen;

As flames began to burn each house,

Their laughter rang again.

 

Then with a swirl of cape and tail

The faery prince was gone;

And with him went the pretty lass,

Into the brilliant dawn.

 

And though it’s years since Breena left

And few recall the day,

They tell still how the handsome

Faery prince took her away.

Author's Note

This is in the style of a ballad, so I hope it sounds right.