Memories of Home
In the darkened woods of Erin, we wandered on the hunt,
To free the folk from Formor, though peasants bore the brunt.
Driven to despair they were, embracing Balor’s lies,
Looking for salvation as all around them died.
Another quest did call to us, Arawn he had a need:
Under threst the Underworld – it needed to be freed.
A portal would be opened, a ritual performed
Tp take us into Hell – the gateway for the mourned.
In the bleakness of the ether, surrounded by our foes,
The Hafganites assailed us, the mighty came to blows.
Resolute I stood my ground, my sword was burning bright,
Driven by a mem’ry that helped to light the night.
For cutting through the dark despair, an image filled my mind,
That lovely smile’d lady fair, no sweeter one to find.
Promise of a moonlit dance, from fleeting visit owed,
No time for sweet romances until the danger showed.
The hunter or the hunted we pursued the ancient boar,
Cautious of its mighty tusks which all before it gored.
Setting free a princess fair, the beauty of the land,
Yet pales did she against the mem’ry of your hand.
Then went I to the mountain tops where you had roamed and played,
To save the dying Eagle from ancient Empire shades.
Whilst filled with rustic wonder, a green and pretty land,
Without your tender step it seemed like barren sand.
The fierce beauty of your homeland reflected in your eyes,
As crafty as the Otter, the Owl has made you wise.
I tried to paint a picture, to write a thousand words –
Tell the world your beauty but justice wasn’t served.
To Lantian isle I followed hence the threat of wayward bard,
To cast down Thrydwulf’s evil – the fighting would be hard.
There I found a flower rare, its perfume ever sweet –
A pale compare to you – yet gift for when we meet.
All Works are © Original Author
(OC Author - Paul Martin)