Girl with Red Hair

In a misty glen where the heather blooms,
There danced a maiden with fiery red hair.
Her eyes like embers, her laughter like tunes,
A wild spirit, untamed, beyond compare.

In the moon's soft glow, she would twirl and sway,
Her skirts brushing dew-kissed grass.
Legends whispered secrets of her fey ancestry,
Of ancient blood and forgotten past.

Oh, the girl with the red hair,
Her laughter echoing through the glen.
She danced with the wind, kissed by the rain,
And the world held its breath, then danced again.

Her steps traced patterns in the mossy earth,
As if she wove spells with each turn.
The foxes and owls were her silent kin,
And the stars above watched her yearn.

Oh, the girl with the red hair,
Her laughter echoing through the glen.
She danced with the wind, kissed by the rain,
And the world held its breath, then danced again.

But one fateful eve, a stranger appeared,
His eyes as green as the forest fern.
He asked for her name, and she hesitated,
For secrets are fragile things to learn.

Oh, the girl with the red hair,
Her laughter echoing through the glen.
She danced with the wind, kissed by the rain,
And the world held its breath, then danced again.

He promised her love, a life beyond the glade,
But she knew the cost of such mortal ties.
With tears in her eyes, she whispered farewell,
And vanished into the moonlit skies.

Now, when the wind howls and the heather weeps,
They say her spirit still roams free.
The girl with the red hair, forever dancing,
In the heart of the ancient Celtic sea.
