Fey
Within a forest draped with snow
a tiny girl with freckles goes
She runs and jumps and plays, alive
without the worries held inside
Of most adults, women or men
but wait, I should begin again
To say the girl who laughs and plays
the heroine, her name is Fey
Her first is Fey, her last it is
Hargrove, a most amazing kid
Now Fey is unaware this morn
the story fore your eyes is born
Oblivious, she runs and skips
while swatting at the air with sticks
She grabs a flower as she walks
to nestle in her tress of locks
The flower has a light blue stem
with petals tinged with white within
In all the world it's only here
this flower grows throughout the year
Now Fey, her nature is to roam1
exploring far beyond her home
And on this day she ventures forth
with young abandon, heading North
The Hargrove’s have since time long past
lived at the end of Badgers pass
A lonely road of mud and dirt
which few, if any, choose to skirt
And North of there lies unexplored
a forest of most wondrous lore
Where no one is inclined to tread
for Weyvryns live there some have said
But Fey, she is too young to care
about the tales of dragons there
Despite what Ma and Da have said
she travels further on instead
Until at last she comes to pass
the furthest point of which this lass
Has ever dared to tread before
she takes a step ... and then one more
Then two, then three, with leaps and bounds
her woven boots speed over ground
Embedding in the virgin fall
of snow her path of footprints small
The wind it whips between the trees
and Fey she feels the icy breeze
From out her patchwork coat she pulls
two mittens made of purple wool