Amongst folded hills
The forest ripples
Dripping
Down into the valleys,
Then
Clambers back up
Towards heaven

A Saxon Lord, a hunter
A top his white and noble steed
Kinsmen close behind him
Hounds baying at the Stag
They pursue
Charges through the sunlight
Dappled green
Painted on his brow

Concentrated on his quest
Divided from his clan
Appearing in his vision
A group of maidens
Dancing
In a glade of sheer luminance

In their midst, one
Exquisite in her artistry
Flowers embroidered in
Golden hair
Shimmering in Elfin melodies
Entrancing in its harmony

He stood
Drowning in her beauty

Bewitched

Knowing

Never again could he be
Without
His Fairy Queen*

(C) Pixievic 2016