Leannan Sidhe
When darkness draws her velvet veil across a sun filled sky,
The wind sweepeth across the hills to cause the grass to sigh,
Loch doth glisten ‘neath the trees, bathed in silver light,
A hush lay deep upon the land this dark enchanted night.
Upon sacred hill within dark Glen, night breeze doth serenade,
Many men hath come before and vows to Her hath made,
Their moistened lips procure the wish, inspiration they doth crave,
Scarlet tears run strong and true and mark their early graves.
Creating works of voice and pen like remembered bards of yore -
Shunning all thou once held close, Her gifts thou hunger for,
Kneeling in wait upon the earth, before thou She appears,
Resplendent in ethereal visage, thou eyes sting fast with tears.
Haunting lament of lovers spent, deep sorrow thou shalt weave,
Impassioned voice doth mesmerise, all that hear shalt deeply grieve,
Of ancient lore and glories past, heroes tales shalt be awoken,
Legends of the Kingdoms Fae are reverently spoken.
If thou shalt dare to call Her muse, thou life shalt swiftly wane,
Inspiration hath a deathly cost, into cauldron thy blood shalt drain.
Dependent on thou Fae Mistress, thy soul is lost to She,
Will thou avoid the price of death to live in Her captivity?
© Amanda Lancaster, 2006
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