Arianrhod

Arianrhod loves cider,
And juniper berries, and sea,
At night, she can sit by the hour
Singing the stars to sleep.

Arianrhod is proud,
Her hair like the rippling stream,
Inside her, an ocean of doubt
And never a trace of dream.

Arianrhod is lonely,
She’s good at the spinning wheel,
She’s quiet; and sighing softly,
She wishes her words could kill.

Arianrhod has brothers,
So many she’s lost the count.
She’s not too good with her mother,
Her father is stern and devout.

Arianrhod is lovely,
Yet somehow at all unseen,
All quiet and wishing wildly
To vanish and never to spin.

Arianrhod is water,
All cold and distant by day,
At night, nobody can hold her
From watching the moonlit waves.

Arianrhod loves cider,
Long walks and her silver wheel,
She wishes her life could be brighter,
Than this – but nobody hears.

Arianrhod is loyal
But too independent, mind
Yet wishing for someone noble
To whisk her away at night.

Arianrhod loves cider,
And juniper berries, and sea,
At night, she can sit by the hour
Singing the stars to sleep.