The ballad of the queen of fairies chair

The ballad of the queen of fairies chair

Across the moor, we follow a dream,
full of the summer joys of love;
in search of the queen of fairies chair,
as blithe as larks in the sky above

under the sun and beyond somewhere,
we’ll sit in the queen of fairies chair

The moor lies rough, a trackless waste;
we’re stepping light and moving slow,
past bogs so deep and bogs so wide,
past the casual caw of a mocking crow

across the breeze and beyond somewhere,
we’ll sit in the queen of fairies chair

With heather and tussocks to stumble upon,
and the rising moor to take us high;
with moss underfoot as soft as down,
the world falls away from the widening sky

above the dale and beyond somewhere,
we’ll sit in the queen of fairies chair

In a lonely place where the curlews call
the chair appears, a chair of stone,
with a seat and a back to rest upon,
old as the hills, old as bone

before tomorrow and beyond somewhere,
we’ll sit in the queen of fairies chair

You sit in front between my thighs
and we both look over the world below;
my arms are held across your breast
as we sit and let the grandeur grow

out of time and beyond somewhere,
we sit in the queen of fairies chair

Our beings fill up with all below,
outspread as treasure, the world as gold;
we see with eyes through ages past,
we who sit here, lovers of old

out of time and beyond somewhere,
we sat in the queen of fairies chair

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