Willow tree
And whispers three
Together make a tasty tea
In forests they do glow
Whence we do not know
But in the teapot they will go

The crown of terror past
The shell inside still lasts
The item you seek, a toy of the weak
Majesty downed, run around in town
To echo how naught but happy sounds

The stoniest of greens
Plague queens not yet queens
Just one beneath can steal the sleep
Of maidens counting sheep

Am I the moss on your bark, then?" Ani asked.
Enna grabbed her around the waist and shook her affectionately. "You're the mossiest girl I know.

Clearly she was expected to say something, but panic at having to speak stole the thoughts from her head.

Being a writer is a good, good thing.