Clothed in bridal white, adorned,
Into misted woods,
Centred in the circular,
Vacantly she stood,
Awaiting fate, whatever hailed, thru
Wraith apparelled filter’d trees,
Wisps, through leaves, on silenced wings
Descend, she falls to knees,
Begs inside, a heartfelt prayer,
Though motionless her lips,
Redemption sought for all she’d wrought,
But terror tightly grips
Around and in and through her soul,
Stanching earthly breath,
Widened eyes and strangled moan
Survey an early death.
Dry her eyes, her mouth, her tongue
Cleaves inside, no sound
Could plea for mercy to this fate,
No soul for miles around.
Swoons to floor, soft carpet there
Of verdant life in form
Surrounded oval, toadstools share
Protection from all harm.
Returned to life, spectres depart,
Arrested in the glade,
Fey to foe, white magic saves
Hand of elven maid
Betrothed, from birth, to only one,
Separated by the vanquished
Now confused, confounded.
Dream walker sleeps from long ago
Wanders where she’s led,
Awakes unto her destiny,
Intended faerie bed.
If, in dreams, a voice calls forth,
Distresses nightly prayer,
Remember magic of the night,
There’s black and white to spare.