Tuesday, July 21, 2009

An Ode to Nynaeve - Jordan's world of The Wheel of Time

Across the valley floor she squinted
His sword of steel no longer glinted
Gone was the brooding furrowed brow
Replaced with smiles and laughter now

So Nynaeve twitched her skirts of blue
Into Lan's arms the lady flew
Rolling her eyes none-the-less
He'd leave her bald with all the stress!

And everyone knows when she is bugged
Nynaeve needs her braids to tug
'Twill not bode well for Lan as such
If the damsel's left with nothing to clutch.

- Saraswati, July 2009

1 comment:

Eye of the Needle said...

This piece looks so much like an ode to Rajmata Gayatri Devi (late). Of course it is not, but it is so perfect if it were.