A faerie death, no lingering

Her soul no longer there

Enshrouded, she was fingering

A lock of silky hair

.

So white it was, and shiny

Like threads of moonbeams, rare

Clutched in a hand, so tiny

That wisp of pure-white hair

.

From deep within a cavern

No firelight did abound

Mere footsteps from the tavern

There came a mournful sound

.

A sound so deep and lonely

So utterly forlorn

One voice, the last and only

Living unicorn

.

His mistress, now departed

How loving she had been

Had left him broken-hearted

And missing his best friend

.

For eons, they had traveled

Through forests, glens and coves

Mere mortals, how they baffled

Men hunted them, in droves

.

All just to glean her magic

All just to get his horn

“The human race is tragic“

So thought the unicorn

.

Their journey, now, was over

His friend had passed away

He stomped a bit of clover

Then neighed a mournful neigh

.

At last, at elfin urging

He let himself be led

Emotion, in him, surging

Thus, filling him with dread

.

A snail’s pace, were his moves

The morning sun now hovered

Slow, clip-clops, with his hooves

To where his friend was covered

.

A glint of sunlight danced there

Upon her tiny form

All at once, he pranced there

That lovely unicorn

.

His keen eye had seen movement

So, to her side, he ran

Sensing some improvement

Fixated on her hand . . .

.

He watched in sheer amazement

His horn, now glistening bright

Eyes followed, where his gaze went

To their surprise and their delight

.

The faerie’s eyelids fluttered

White strands, fell to the ground

No single sound was uttered

By all who stood around

.

The horse moved ever nearer

Until he was beside

Soon everything was clearer

His mistress had not died

.

Or, maybe, she had come back

An angel, now, instead

Alive – her body — not slack

Indeed, she was not dead

.

As those around all witnessed

Enchantment filled the air

The unicorn’s small mistress

Picked up the lustrous hair

.

A lock, the elves had taken

From mane of her white steed

Thus, she was not forsaken

She was alive, indeed

.

The unicorn held magic

Both in his horn and mane

In truth, what had seemed tragic

By destiny, was feigned

.

Love is the strongest potion

The world has ever known

It conjures up emotion

From maidenhood to crone

.

The unicorn had held her

Within his heart so pure

So, although death befell her

Her essence did endure

.

The faerie sat up, smiling

Then reached out to the horse

Their union was beguiling

And beautiful, of course

.

His body, strong and agile

Bent low, there, at her side

His mistress, somewhat fragile

Climbed on his back, astride

.

Her wings were folded, neatly

Her hands were folded too

She whispered to him, sweetly

He knew just what to do

.

She laid her head against his neck

He raised his golden horn

She gave the horse a faerie peck

Off strode the unicorn

.

Onlookers in the faerie dale

N’ere saw the two again

Swallowed by a misty veil

A unicorn and friend

.

That day and ever after

In the tavern, over ale

Townsfolk recalled, with laughter

The lovely faerie tale

.

“” . 09-11-12 . t.r. cardinet ©

This entry was posted on Sunday, January 6th, 2013 at 2:14 pm and is filed under Elf Poems, Fairy Poems, Pixie Poems, Spiritual, Tracy R. Cardinet, Unicorns. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.