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

This poem is about: 
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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