Fantasy

Do you close your eyes
To a dying storm
In rolling green wildgrass
Beneath shades of grey
And smoke mountains beyond
The glittering endless sea
From a magic window
On a spiraling tower
Of a fairy castle
Between the high rocks
Where tears have fallen
Of some long lost dreams
Sometimes at night
When the wind is still
You can hear the dragons
Beyond the northern wall
And remember their gold
And their frightening eyes
And the rumble of their wings
Under the midday sun
A day in a year
A trumpet sounds
To the clatter of steel
In the courtyard below
And out in the harbour
The sails are unfurled
And the coat of arms
Dazzles in the sun
On a high mast
Where the seagulls swoop
To stare and then
They fly away
And by noon
The ships are gone
And handkerchiefs lost
From tired fingers
Now and then at dawn
You wake to hear
Your horse neigh loud
From the stables below
And you grab your sword
And ride bareback out
Without thinking
Where to go
The mountains call
And the green shadow pines
The old lost path
Up the forested slope
Where if you’re still
You might just spy
An elven head
By a whispering brook
You remember once
You never went back
One starry evening
Against a moss covered trunk
And the unicorns
Came out to bask
In the silvery light
From the crescent moon
And the toadstools glowed
Phosphorescent and love
Before you just fell asleep
A ring of dancing lights
On Fairy’s Nook
A treasured dream
Beneath a granite dolmen
On a carpet of grass.
There’d been a time
When the wicked queen
From over the mountains
Had sent a horde
Of swarming evils
To take over the land
And the fairies had disappeared
For a long long time.
You remember the steel
Clashing overhead
And the arrow whizzing
Through the stinking air
The woods on fire
And for a moment there
You didn’t care
But for the lust of blood
The dying cries
Wouldn’t leave your dreams
For years and years
And time went on
The fairies returned
And the forest grew
Again anew
Out of the ashes of war.
Beyond the magic wood
Up the path and on
To a soft wild meadow
Where the wind is strong.
It slaps against you.
Outside and inside.
Like flute music
From a shepherd’s song
The eagles soar
And from down below
It’s still so high up
That you can see
All your world
And much much more
To the shady horizons
Of your eternity.
Here you wait
For the thundering rains
To flatten the grass
And obscure the sky
Blending black and white
With a touch of blue
Blue for freedom
That lasts awhile.