The Lady Noreyl (a chapter from a fairy tale written long ago) in Things Previously Written

The Lady Noreyl
(I)

In ancient of times in worlds far away
there lived a King and a Queen
a fabulous place of peace and fine grace
where goodness was all that was seen

The Royals were loved by all of the land
had magic and kept all in peace
their children adored and devoted were they
until this world that they knew came to cease

The magic was held by a scepter of gold
and a robe made of silver and fleece
the owner of which shall rule all the land
whether angel or born from the beast

The Queen she was served by many a lass
most favorite the Lady Noreyl
her beauty was second to only her queen
which brings turn to this part of the tale

Through love and blind trust, such honorable things
became a path to the blackest of hearts
Noreyl so it seems wore a mask none foretold
rained death, tore the kingdom apart

The Queen in her robe one evening is said
found Noreyl very close by her side
the fairest of Queens fatally struck by a blade
barely clung to her flesh and blood life

Robe magic it was could not stop a blade
but witchery could not break its spell
the flesh surely dies but spirit remains
concealed in a doll on the shelf

But now for the King, Noreyl she did scheme
for the scepter was wanted as well
with both in her hand she would accurse all the land
and bring minions as servants from hell

Only the scepter could kill the great King
who was blinded by horrible grief
his queen lie dead and children did dread
their father’s reign would now cease

Noreyl was cursed by her own selfish greed
found both robe and the scepter now gone
her spells she could cast but power not last
in a kingdom of goodness and song

The children it seems have dashed all her dreams
stole the magic to rule all the days
with King at her feet she could not defeat
but could cast him so far, far away

Away with you now with an inhumanly growl
and a wave of her hand to dark sky
I cast you away, bitter, aged and gray
where you go there grow older and die

The King was a-swirl in a thunderous cloud
where no man should ever embark
away on the wind with no memory within
to a place witches call Forest Dark

Last updated February 19, 2015