Weary is the Hunt, which Faeries follow.
Long is their parting, from the Fae Courts.
But in the harshness, they do not wallow;
They bring the weapons of silver and quartz.
While Fae be eloquent, ne'er speaking blunt,
Never question their fierce fighting skill.
Wild be the Fae, those that join the Hunt:
Hands ne'er tremble nor hesitate to kill.
Bows must be deadly; arrows must be sharp.
A spear cannot bend; a sword cannot break.
There be Songs to sing, so take the Fae harp,
And sleep near the stars, by dell or by lake.
But be e'er wary when ye hear their horn:
The subtle call that tells of where they be.
Ye will ne'er see them, for the oath be sworn,
Binding for all days; for Eternity.
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Faeries Born
PoetryA few poems about Faeries, and their lore. When are Faeries born? What do they do when we don't see them? What happens in the dunes? What is their darker side like? Please understand that while I have the "completed" box checked off, I will still p...
