‘Lady of the Woods’
Shimmering ashes and silvered cloth, drape long and smooth,
Like a slow fog that whispers over the forest path, to adorn the Lady of the Woods.
As the sun lies down before her, a glory of mist in the smoky heaven; the very breath of Angels of the winter land.
Her lullaby… shattered crystals, that resonate bright upon the aether;
rejoice in the gathering of Wood Thrushes that will carry her tune,
To the Knight of her heart-
The stygian corridors of man, where no apparitions dare to quarter,
The Knight will find her.
In dreams, where the ‘Shadows of the Light’ speak the stories that we see,
beyond veil and mist, she will be-
The Lady of the Woods…
shimmering ashes and silver cloth, a formed mystery;
A story foretold