Aurora’s Woe

Here is another of my poems, this one about the poor victim of another sleeping spell, this one induced by a spindle:

The fairies gave me beauty.

The fairies made me kind.

The fairies made me graceful

And gave me an intelligent mind.

But they also made me curious

And everything I’d touch.

Although the fairies did not mind,

My parents minded much.

They did not tell me of the curse,

Nor the peril I was in.

So I curiously found the spindle.

Maleficent now would win.

For many years I will sleep,

And while I sleep I pray:

Please let a prince find me,

And let me wake that day.

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