Tapestry

Tapestry

By J.Lynne Moore

In want of words,
For my loom;
To weave together,
A sentence bloom.

With gentle tone,
And humble pen;
Back and forth,
My tale does spin.

Of noble knights,
And wee fairy queens,
A blanket of words,
Reveals my dreams.

The shuttle slides,
Fast and then slow.
Onward now…
The words must flow!

The tapestry complete,
Varied shades and hues.
I rest my pen,
In contemplative muse.

© 2016 -2017 Cashmere Illusions.blog /J.Lynne Moore All Rights Reserved

The Maiden and the Spriggan King

The Maiden and the Spriggan King

By J.Lynne Moore

 

“T’is the equinox!” She said,

as she cackled soft and meek.

“The moon will be my candle,

tonight vengeance will speak.”

 

Upon the mossen floor,

a fairy-ring was laid;

tender care was taken,

his betrayal shall be repaid.

 

Her brumous figure quivered,

her incantation spoke,

“Tarry not dear spirits,

your power I do invoke.”

 

“My body lays among,

the lilies of the spring.

Please grant me this request,

oh mighty Spriggan King!”

 

The words she whispered, woke

what slept within the wood.

Tonight her unbound spirit,

would be laid to rest for good.

 

The Spriggan King appeared,

before her in the gloom,

along with his horde of Red Caps,

their lips sticky with grume.

 

“His name is not important,

it’s his deeds that make him bad.”

Resolve grew within her voice,

at last revenge would be had.

 

“Tonight he walks the streets,

in search of victims sweet.

Innocent blood is taken,

from those he happens to meet.”

 

“I will not welcome heaven,

until his spirit burns!

Hell will be his eternal home,

trapped within the guerns!”

 

The Spriggan King accepted,

her request so sincere.

Surrounded by his Red Caps,

his intention was very clear.

 

The cobbled streets were silent,

as the knave wandered alone;

unaware of his ill fortune,

tonight he would not return home.

 

The swiftness of the Red Caps,

made quick work of this fiend.

With wicked wetted teeth,

his bones they fleetly cleaned.

 

Heaven welcomed her soul;

his claimed by the gates of hell.

Victory wrought by the forest guardians,

her vengeance they did quell.

 

Lilies dancing around her grave,

awaken the flora of spring.

The forest fauna rejoice,

as they welcome new offspring.

 

The forest guardians now rest,

deep within the mists untold,

enjoying nature’s serenity,

watching springtide unfold.

 

© 2016 -2017 Cashmere Illusions.blog /J.Lynne Moore All Rights Reserved