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Fancrap...or, a Poem.



Fair are my tresses, long and golden,
curling like the untamed sea;
Rosier lips hath no young maiden,
as those can be found on me.

Away from home I certainly ran,
straight-away off to the Weyr;
For my father had chosen a man,
I knew I could not hold dear.

On the sands I met my one true love,
but my joy was soon stillborn;
Voices, from bodies unseen above,
laughter, ridicule and scorn.

My doom was set, 'tis a chilly harsh truth,
when I, Mari Impressed golden Sueth.

Comments

( 1 comment — Leave a comment )
speedyscribbler
Jan. 7th, 2005 11:49 am (UTC)
Lol! Ah, yes, Mari and her Sueth. They do get around, don't they? Here's one of their hidey holes.

( 1 comment — Leave a comment )

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