Visions from the Pillow's Nest

Of fairies and elves and unicorns,
of fair maidens and knights of honor,
of grand battles and great adventures,
is the land where my head does rest.

Rolling hills of the plushest green,
tall forests of the grandest oaks,
rivers winding through the dale,
bright setting of sun in the west.

Strong stone castles high on the hill,
straw roofed cottages along the way,
taverns and inns for the way-farer,
in this land I reside as a guest.

The flute and the harp are playing,
with tambourine salting the rhythm,
the balladeer sings us his story
of the heroes upon their quest.

All this is played out before me
as the afternoon sun is setting,
with casing of lace trimmed linen
robing the straw of pillow's nest.