lily of the valley
dressed in alpine green
with her tiny hands
with her innocent eyes
with her trusting heart
a child star
a ray of hope
milking her little cow
sleeping in her snow white sheets
wandering in the sleeping forest
her quickening dreams of a golden saviour
her candle lit room
her childhood ever present
no lord
let no harm pass her way
let no swarthy stranger disturb this idyll
let no wolf see her bathe in the crystal streams
alas
oh smooth tongued villain
oh cruel and evil fate
oh nothing good can last forever
a snake in eden
a shark in paradise
a wasp amongst flowers
here he comes
here comes the start of the end
threading these mountain paths
coming to the valley at last
by a fortuitous route
through the hardest winters
through the blasted summers
through thorn and bramble and rambling rose
inexorably moving towards little lily
who knows nothing of the city and its duplicities
who knows nothing of men and their dark needs
who knows nothing of soot and grime and filth
and the sweet flowers floated through the air
in the shimmering springtime
in the laziness of perfection
in the drone of the bee
while the green leaves sprouted and thickened
catching the light that poured on down
underground the elves worked in their cool caverns
forging rings and swords for the heroes to come
black crow sits amongst the branches
singing a lonely song
and with certain eyes
you can see everything engaged in a slow exchange
you can see the spirits of the trees
but the stranger comes regardless
he has no eyes for the flowers or the skies
and his face is grim
he hefts a killing axe
and he hews at the trees in his way
and he kills the creatures he finds
and he has no love for life
as she sits in her garden feeding the birds
he has already entered her valley
and approaches her
endlessly