First Draft - A Moon of Bright Orange.

First Draft - A Moon of Bright Orange.

I had hair like a princess -

I had curls like a queen.

I had dreams of the dark side.

The worst of the night air.

The Black Queen is moving -

along a given path. In her hand

is a hatchet, in her words -

“Off with her head! Numbskull, Driblet!”

My dress of white muslin

fluttered in the breeze. The horses neighed

an answer – and the Owls sang a challenge

and the Dream sky was darker -

against a moon of bright Orange.

Her hair was piled high, and a ship sailed

on through it. Her face glistened white as lamplight,

against the dark of her horse's sides. “Get on boy!”

she yelled, and sank in her heels. “We'll sic 'em yet...”

The Bishop rolled into play, his teeth splayed out

in a grimace. And my castle lay unprotected – in a spool

of golden ink. The Guardians were waiting -

for all the plans to be complete…

Time is dragging at our footprints,

the ship is ready all except one to go…

From this world to the next… and all to save,

and all to warn – until the future comes correct.

That's the worst of night air.

Which sails in with the darkness grim,

and when you turn and toss…

you let them in, you let them in…