At the Fortress of Orla
Where the fairy people stay
The fire burns bright
The ogres leave day by day
The leprechaun council
Made a grave mistake
The Orlan people’s stomachs
Grumble in ache
For the underworld is closed
Transportation has stopped
The river runs dry
The dancing clovers will no longer pop
The giants are shrinking
Fairies are going mad
The fortress is creaking
There’s no more fun to be had
The huntsmen wait
By the stone wall
Wailing in pain
As the fairies have no magic at all
The Fortress of Orlan must close all its doors
The people must leave
There is no hope anymore
But one fairy wanders in
She looks a wee bit lost
She has a singular poppy
Full of mist, but at a cost
This mist is sacred
The mist of the greats
Who live in the clouds
far, far away
She shares her mist
As she has no use
But she will be queen
The leprechaun’s brains are full of booze
She reigns at the fortress of Orla
The people are saved
The underworld is open
The bad has gone away
Great writing, Chizzy! Thanks for sharing your adventures! -