Dream- Iron Grille

She’s trapped behind a prison grille

So I think to bend it to my will.

That iron grille is tall and wide

And spans the room from side to side

From floor to ceiling and wall to wall,

And though at present I am not tall,

My haizda magic’s very strong;

It coils and twists and flicks the grille

Until the metal quivers, twists, and yields

Like poppies dancing in the fields—

For that grille’s alive, no doubt of that;

It’s lithe and stretchy like a cat.

Now it opens very wide

And I beckon Nessa to my side.

B11 Epilouge