ramblings and things

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o Fruit Market Quartet- Thieving Harry’s

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Interim Report

There's a throbbing in the air
Carried on the breeze
Resonating slowly outward
From the standing trees
Carrying the news received
Through the ether net
Faerie is approaching
Still so far away yet
The last Wormhole being readied
All Dimensions tuned and steadied
Each huge berg of vacuum ice
That forms the advancing fleet
Focussing on that distant point
Where all dimensions meet
There to bend
The stuff of space
On the last lap
Of their race
There is a tension in those vessels
An excitement they are barely able
To contain spreading even to those
Fighting Dragons in their stables
The period of stasis is ending
In their homeward flight
We are coming we are coming
Signalled through space night
There's a throbbing in the air
From the standing trees
Carrying the news
Slowly through the breeze
They are coming they are coming
Ever closer ever more near
What to the waiting trees
Is another hundred years

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