Lilybell

 

The stars were scattered grains of sand, across the velvet sky,

The wind was a midnight phantom, breathing a silent sigh,

The river was painted silver by Luna’s gentle kiss,

The village slept in the tangles of sweet and dreamy bliss.

 

And down the shinning silver street, two laughing shadows ran,

They darted, quick as humming birds, lurking hand in hand

They hid least any should see them, for the whole town knew them well,

Knew them as the bagger Ash and the lord’s sweet Lilybell.

 

Poor Ash, the town’s beloved bagger, handsome, charming and gay,

As rich as mice, as free as birds and merry either way.

The lord’s fair-haired daughter, trailing loyally behind

Her smiling eyes and golden hair and moonlight intertwined.

 

His bare feet crunching gravel, her green dress billowing round,

They made their way towards the woods without a louder sound.

The town all feared the forest, and its lurking friendless Fey

The two scoffed at the stories and wanted to hide away.

 

The woods enclosed the village, crawling up the mountains high

Shuddering leaves, twisting twigs, all reaching to the sky,

Thick trunks held close together, dressed with a shadow’s touch

Between the leaves they whispered secrets they love so much.

 

The pair approached the forest; the trees all seemed to swell

With pride to meet the reckless lovers, Ash and Lilybell

And running over mossy turf, both drunk with fear and glee

They spun beneath leaf-tangled stars and laughed in revere.

 

 They came upon a laughing brook, wrinkled through with stones

And shaded by the hanging willows, sighing mournful tones

“Let’s rest awhile here,” said Ash, his eyes beginning to close

And laid himself besides the bank, as the moon above them rose

 

Poor girl, she could not wake him, not with shaking nor with screams

Ash slept as if death held him, a prisoner of his dreams.

Dismayed, she sat there wondering exactly what to do,

The darkness grinned around her, inside her unease grew.

 

Her eyes grew wide in terror as the shadows took on skin

With angles sly and piercing eyes and hungry wolfish grin.

A young lord stood before her, the princeling of the Fey

With raven hair and marble skin, as calm as summer’s day

 

 

The shadows were all around her then, swallowing her whole

They tangled in her hair and eyes, as quick as lightning stole

The girl away with thrashing screams from that quiet glade

And left poor Ash, still sleeping sound, within the willow’s shade.

 

When last the shadows left her, she found herself alone

The trees to her were strangers, enclosed by a ring of stones

The Princeling stood before her, eyes glinting bites of jade

Black raven feathers stirred in his clothes from bowing to the maid.

 

“Be welcomed her, dear little child, by beauty I am bound.”

He waved his hand and fireflies formed nearly in a crown

And settled there upon her brow, sweat coated to a sheen

“Now that you’re fit to play the part, stay here and be my queen.”

 

She thought of Ash, asleep, alone, exposed to the forest’s night

And how her town would miss her so, upon the morning’s light

And so she gave her answer, shy and timid “no”

 The princeling’s eyes did flash in fury, fading his repose.

 

“You may not leave this circle dear, least you should face my curse,

My folk delight in wicked things, leave here and face the worst.”

All this he said while smiling a cheerful child’s grin

And yet his eyes were eaten up in darkness from within

 

His silky words they seemed to cut her as deep as any knife

And in her heart she knew at once, she’d never be his wife.

And turning heel on Fey’s dear prince, she ran with all her might

“With you and live a thousand years? I’d rather die tonight!”

 

She leapt the ring of bedded stones, no heed of warnings called

As nimble stepped as any deer, fresh lost to fear’s enthrall

Her golden hair waved in the starlight, rich as summer wheat

Her dark eyes blazed like fire whilst she ran with winged feet

 

She thought of Ash, her darling Ash and she had to find a way

To find him in this forest, see to it he got away.

“It matter’s not my fate,” said she, “ If only Ash can live

To see the sun, to laugh at stars, my life for his I’ll give.”

 

She ran until the sky turned grey from fast approaching dawn

The shadows bulged with nightmares, fearing Fey were long from gone

Her legs began to weaken so, her sight began to fade

The curse had come upon her as she stumbled ‘pon the glade.

And there was Ash, alive and sleeping in a patch of sun

While dancing to the wind’s soft tune, the weeping willows swung

Her eyes, they watered steadily to tumble down her face

To see her darling sleeping so, in such a lovely place.

 

She waded cross the river, then toppled to her knees

For all her strength had faded ‘way, so weakly did she plead

“My Ash, my Ash, wake up, it’s me, your darling Lilybell.”

Her fingers close to touching him, when with a sigh she fell

 

Down by his side did she collapse, the light gone from her eyes

While birds did circle overhead to give their lazy cries

Her skin it turned to dark brown earth and crumbling away

Her dress it sprouted fresh green grass and in the breeze it swayed.

 

But by the place her head had been such lovely flowers rose

Sweet lilies and charming bluebells, dressed with the finest clothes

And by their scent did Ash awake and gave a fitful yawn.

And blinking gazed about him and saw his lover gone.

 

“My Lily-Billy, hast thou gone? Why have you run away?

Don’t hide from me, my darling Lil, at least, my mercy, say,

Say what I’ve done and I’ll amend; you are my starts above

See here, I’ll pick for you these flowers, tokens of my love.”

 

And taking up his lily flowers, stumbling away

He called for her, deep in the forest, playground of the Fey.

In quiet nights, the little town, can here him calling still

He’s searching, always searching, for his darling little Lil.