The Lady of Shallott - beginning of a prologue.

'T'is the fairy' the whispers sang,
And the blue-bells simply rang,
The diamonds in the sky they hang,
Above the witch and her gang,
In for Camelot.
She's the mother of Lancelot,
She maybe good or maybe not,
She trapped her there, left to rot,
He loved the girl upon the motte,
In the tower of Shalott.

Bethan Edgar, 10.