By Gala
Date: 10 March 2000
True Elven Magick
Forget the clouds of gossamer scarves,
the soft tinkle of laughter on the wind,
of the songs drawn from silver harps
by fingers impossibly slim.
Take yourself instead to the Vale
where mists swirl around your ankles
and the light is soft, diffused---
You will find me there beneath a simple cloak,
no gold trinkets strung in my hair,
that worn maiden simple down my back.
No richly embroidered gown,
just solemn eyes grey
and unreadable as the Atlantic.
If the voice you hear is sweet,
then it is your love that made it so.
If the face, the skin, the lips
are fair
then my sole magic
is being she
who caught your heart fast.
You are not my prisoner.
You are not my hostage.
Your heart is yours to give or keep,
and if I am in fact a queen,
it was your love
that made me so...
but I would sooner be crowned with kisses,
wrapped in warm arms than ermine,
and a simple woman
basking in the light from your eyes....
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