Just Off  The  Coast  To The Baltic  Sea 
   There'S A Freshwater Pond, Secluded    
 Among  Ashen And Juniper. A Cleft In The 
   Limestone Bedrock, Sharp-Cut From The  
   Surrounding Plains, A Ninety Degree    
 Drop  Down, Down,  To The Midnight-Black 
                  Water.                  
                                          
                          
                                  
     Fairies Live Here.     
                                  
                          
                                          
 They  Speak  To  The Sloane, Caress  It, 
 Urge  It To Grow Thicker, Tangled,  With 
 Longer  And Sharper Thorns. They Tell It 
 To Stay Just  Below The  Grass, So  That 
 The  Animals  What  Come  To  Drink  The 
 Water  Cannot  See  It  Before It  Draws 
 Their Blood.  Closer  To  The  Pond, The 
 Sloane Can  Grow Taller, Being  Able  To 
         Hide Also In The Juniper.        
                                          
 The  Fairies Will  Beckon The Animals To 
 Push  Forward,  Tell  Them That  They'Re 
 Almost  At  The  Water,  That  They  May 
 Drink  Soon.  And They Will Tug  On  The 
 Sloane To Make Sure That  The Thorns Cut 
 Deep. When They Finally  Find  The  Path 
 Down Between  The Rocks, Away  From  The 
 Bushwork  And  Into The  Cleft, They Are 
 Bleeding  From  A  Thousand  Wounds.  As 
 They  Drink From  The Dark Water,  It Is 
 In  Turn  Drinking  The  Animals  Blood. 
                                          
 The  Circle Is  Complete,  The  Contract 
 Carried  Out; The Animal Is Abandoned To 
 Find  Its Own Way Back. The Bushes Roots 
 Drink The  Nutrutious Water. The Fairies 
          Dance In The Sunbeams.