Wraivyn

*Author's note: A Shakespearean sonnet about one of my friends

In Elwyn Woods, I first did meet my friend
Who's known as Wraivyn. "Hark," she cried to me
That night, "to Blue Recluse around the bend!"
And so we drank and sights we left to see.
For years we've laughed and fought along the land.
And though we've never truly met, except
In land of fantasy, I know the hand
And laugh of Wrai', in mind I keep her kept.
I must admit, she's quite insane that girl
Who I call Wrai'. She creeps behind and yells,
"Don't jump!" and laughs and gives her hair a twirl.
At night she hides (beneath my bed she dwells).
It seems the Blue Recluse is never far
From me and her: that woman quite bizarre.