Fairly Taled

Magic’s mild here
blackbird’s a light
blanch towered threes

Sit a spel
bellow, storm above’r
n’ether, f’you, please

Snow’s not over
our storied climaxis
just a tease

With teared straw
hot and gold
spun, you’re awhirl

Beaks of iron
hearts of brass
claws still curl

Fables all wrong
which lines almost
save the Girl

Scratched in clay
seal with torches
chatter and verse

But blackbirds pipe
too free f’r
lovers of purse

Grayest cloud ends
silent Fair One
lifts our curse

Storms or dragons
both are nice
paths to glory

Beaks with gold
hearts still brassed
our heads hoary

Farce, I know
She’s still my
hero and story

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