Treasures

In reverie so sweet she lies;
a robe is covering her soft breast.
The blue jays and the butterflies
afloat as she’s so calm in rest.
Journeys long to find her great chest
of gemstones known to fairy folk.
To east and north as she knew best;
her treasures, powers would evoke.

The day is done, but oh, she cries;
bittersweet raindrop tears attest
to knowing that slowly she dies,
to pass from here with all the rest.
Yet never had she been so blessed,
the Prince to her that day he spoke;
he sent her on a mission west;
her treasures, powers would evoke.

The party went, including spies
reporting back what they had guessed
to be her treason; oh, the lies!
For more they so harshly had pressed.
Response she spat to them in jest
behind her hidden fairy cloak.
They knew not of her queenly crest –
her treasures, powers would evoke.

I beseech you upon this quest,
the royal rights I do invoke,
for the Queen of the Fae addressed –
her treasures, powers would evoke.

Author's note: This poem is written in the French ballade form (not a ballad) and uses iambic tetrameter. It is allowed and sometimes encouraged to put the stress on the opposite syllable in each iamb, as I have done here.