I woke up with a tingle in my neck,
which as I looked around became a pain;
I saw mountains, hills, a perilous trek,
and a woman speak – I hear her again:
"Welcome to the world where worries are lanced
by the swift, sharp rod of justice and love;
we are all those colors – sometimes you glanced
at our forms in your dreams, sent from above:
I am an heiress of this fair estate,
and you stand to inherit a bright plot,
not from me, but through your deeds with my aid,
which can teach you to bleed while wounds still clot:
A spade's a spade, and this spade's in your hand;
your part is the whole, now work on our land."
urbansonnets 