Reality is too tidy after one hundred years of dreaming
So she makes her garden messy
She grows no roses, but wild brambles that bear the sweetest blackberries
Soft between her teeth, sun ripened and warm
Only she can pick them safe from thorns
She does not sleep much, which makes the court whisper
Of curses reversed but not quite broken
She shelters in her plants’ unjudging company
Weaving moonflower and morning glory into ever-blooming vines
Cradled in the roots of a steady birch
The trees know all about long, deep sleep
By night she gathers up the sleep she does not need
Bundling it, poppy-scented, in a gossamer net bag
Then creeps through the castle, soft as starlight
Giving rest to the old laundress and the weary maid
Rich with visions of rose petal castles and flashing fairy wings
Once eternally sleeping, now she sweetens dreams
Madeleine Elias has an MFA in Writing from the University of San Francisco. She is a writer of magical stories and poetry, an avid crafter, a singer and a dancer. She lives with one foot always in the land of stories and is working on her first novel.
Vintage artwork, artist unknown.
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