Lady Abigail created this little poem about the mythical land of Tamir in King's Quest 4.

KING'S QUEST 4'S
"THE LAND OF TAMIR"
BY LADY ABIGAIL

Gather round, children; I'll tell ye a tale
Of a land where the moon rises bright -- and yet pale,
Where the woods keep a unicorn, rather than deer;
'Tis the marvelous, wonderful land of Tamir.

Come with me now to the land I hold dear;
I'll show you the ocean; my memory's clear --
I'll show ye the meadow, between sea and wood;
I'll show you the mounts in the swamp's neighborhood.

Tamir has a balance 'twixt Evil and Good;
Why, even her forests have differing wood!
A delicate balance hangs 'tween imp and sprite,
Between ev'ry darkness and every light:

With Good on the left, and Bad on the right
(If you're facing north, that is) -- what a sight!
'Tis not to be found any elsewhere but here
In the mystical, magical land of Tamir.

The wonderous, magical land of Tamir --
Two fairy-queens know their abode should be here,
And so they make it. One evil, one good,
Both live far 'yond opposite sides of the wood.

Genesta: perfect example of sweet ladyhood,
She lives on an island; 'tis meet that she should.
A radiant butterfly gave her its wings.
On a fair day, you'll hear her fine voice as she sings.

To the mountains, a shadow is what Lolotte brings;
Her castle is circled with smoky cloud-rings.
Her voice is a cackle; her skin is bright green;
Her unfortunate victims nowhere to be seen.

They two keep the balance 'tween Tasteful and Mean:
Lolotte with her terror; Genesta, her sheen.
We all do respect them (though not all take sides --
The frog, for example, who in the pond hides).

Far off to the east, past the stony hillsides,
Grows a magical tree; in the swamp it resides.
This tree has a magical, healing fruit;
Its guard wears a green-yellow scaly suit.

All this can be reached through the mountains' dark root,
Where there lives a despicable bone-crunching brute.
But enough! I do frighten my audience so!
I believe it is time that to bed they did go!

To sleep, little ones, for the dream-seeds to sow;
Come again on the morrow; I'll re-weave the tableau
Of that marvelous, wonderful land I hold dear,
The magical, mystical land of Tamir.