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The Underliving
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You are in the Fairy & Fantasy Poems Section

Faerie Tale - Tracy R.Cardinet2012©Cal USA

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 ©

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