There's a little bit of Satyr in each Siren
There's a little bit of nanny in each ram
There's a little bit of you inside my heart luv
And I'd like to think I'd take it like a man

There's a waltz afoot, but oh bigods, who's leading?
There's a sarabande of drakes and dams in rows
As they one by one file out onto the dance floor
There's some left behind who come in nones and twos

There's a knight in high distress up in the tower
There's a damsel 'neath it drawing her longbow
There's a silky beard descending for the climbing
As the grapnel surges up from far below

In the fallow field the fungi sprout pugnacious
In the coral reef their kin from sisters grow
Like the budding of a polyp or a floweret
We all bend towards the same celestial glow

There are wedding bells a-ringing in the chapel
There's a bride a-waiting all arrayed in white
It's a mystery who's striding up the aisle next
But whate'er the harvest all will be alright

Penned by my hand on the 18th of Scarlatan, in the year 957 AF.