Hers was not an apple Hers was a jetplane A 21st century Icarus Her true wish was to break the spell Escape the labyrinths of her tower forever Shatter glass She day-dreamed a Prince, spinning her a golden ladder Climbing past her mother Swinging through the windows I attempted a rescue Hollywood style But the thorns got her first Scratched her eyes like shards of her mother’s mirror Malice through the Looking Glass No matter how much I cried She still couldn’t see me Meanwhile those brambles had become a forest, entwined themselves seductively round my hands and her hair Drew blood A perfect chance to release her, or so I thought Sadly my sword was not designed for such use On plants (Alas-for soon the woodsman appeared on the scene Equipped with his axe Hunting, I believe Seeking game at any rate- This was not to be my day) Well, although she longed for a Prince My three gifts of happiness, friendship and a "Get out of Jail Free" card Went unrecognised Intercepted, perhaps, by the scheming witch downstairs Either way, I had a kingdom to manage Castles dwarves and all So my stallion and me turned away And left her to stamp and hurl rampion Fairies, too They cast a spell at me I dodged and she slept for a hundred years Under a gingerbread sky I wept in the woods There the wolf wept too, for his grandma had died Murdered, by all accounts He huffed And he puffed And he blew the princess away My, what a big heart you have