Outstretched hands nimbly grasp

The mirage of a moment

Full of tales eager to be told.

To a youthful girl so clever

A story is a day's jewel.

A fresh highway to a life unlike her own.

Her mind works, while words tumble into, onto, in line,

Striking a match, letting the flame explain

That her story is much different to a prince's kiss too bright.

Closing the pages, peering through the glass,

A girl with hair like the branches of a willow

With kelly forests beaming back.

Another thought...

She was intriguingly pleasing to look at.

Was it misguided to think?

Would others forbid such a thought?

After all,

A girl in love without a prince

Is not in any fairy tale she has ever read.