Forest (Rhymer 9)

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Dark the shrouded mantle spread
Across the rolling glens far reach,
A dark-tinged green horizons edge
And then again beyond.
Midnight black the crow flew high
Content no green surcease
As far as eye could see,
An ancient swell unmoved by man
Nor bound by mystic moon,
Which spilt soft silver light
To fill the cracks of glade and dell
As bough and branch permitted.
And through the swaying pulse
Of trunk to magics tingling tempo
By which danced arcane fae,
A distant subtle chord
Struck soft a resonance,
A trembled tone,
That troubled now the fae.
Silver-haired and subtle too
Ears lifted to the wind,
The queen was come
And with her came,
Uneasy augur,
Mortal man.
A tremor in the green
Portent of echoes yet to pass,
Of fire and iron
And axe and hoe
And nights mare roaming wild,
Amok within the dream.
But no Wild Hunt
This vision dire,
But faes slow pained demise.

© Greg Richards

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