Heavenly scent of lavender lingers
entwined with gnarled spindly fingers,
deep in the woods of Dewdrops Dell
the Fairy Godmother rings her bell.
The buttermilk chiffon billows
in swathes, of golds and yellows.
Rambling roses adorn the view,
and where porcelain white doves flew.
Amidst the coconut clouds of love,
Mishca swoons down from above.
Her mauve bouffant of wispy curls,
reflects the April sun as she twirls.
Waves undulate across Mosaic Lake
as the breeze flutters in her wake.
She spreads her secret powers,
weaving through the fragrant flowers.
Grace's waterfall of chestnut hair,
tumbles down her back with vibrant flair.
Her natural beauty shining through,
something Mischa always knew.
Her demeanour and poise are clear to see,
Deep in her heart, Grace longs to be free.
Though Grace appears gentle and refined,
So steadfast is she and clear of mind.
Mischa's presence of hope radiates
as rippling tunes from the harp, vibrates.
Smooth velvet notes float on streams
of musical lyrics, seen in dreams.
Rhythm and melody fill the skies
mesmerized by her beauty, Mischa sighs.
Emotions simmer and weave,
Grace declares, "It's time to leave".
Grace's identity now revealed,
no longer are her dreams concealed.
Goals and hopes are what she desires
which her Fairy Godmother inspires.