Return to Avalon

[MystressAutumn{tornsub}]

Oh, Oberon my fairy king,
Ruler of our elfin kin and those of gossamer wing,
Who make their home in the mighty forest of Avalon,
And joy to the hearts of mortals doth bring,
My heavy eyelids do feel sleep's sharp sting,
As the morning lark her mournful tune doth start to sing.

I watch in maudlin, silent sadness,
As our elfin and fairyfolk away,
Escape to their sweet repose,
As breaks forth the dawn of another day,
Robin Goodfellow as was wont, doth lead thier way,
Always true to his steadfast course,
With never a need to stray.

How bittersweet it is to leave our bowery bed,
To follow where the insubstantial dreams of mortals hath lead,
What more good fairy spirits could we have done,
Upon these most unvirtuious marriage beds,
No more, no less, as mortal's faith doth wane,
As the inconstant moon flying high above our heads,
I fear our Avalon away shall fade.

Come Good Robin and whisper in your Master and Mistress ear,
Words of soft comfort, words of gentle cheer,
Faith, give us words, our spirits to boost,
Before the eye of the sun peeks forth the light of another day,
And the quarrelsome sound of the rooster doth pierce our ear,
Bleak the breezes of the morning do sway.

Come my sweet and gentle fairies away,
Find your downy soft thistle beds,
For there, on yon horizon,
Dawn doth show her garrish head,
Sweet repose be yours until e'entide,
Then high you hence once more,
Here to your Queen's side.

The world is moving on my fairy king,
And what shall we poor ethereal beings do,
As mortals no more in our mischief and good deeds believe,
Tell me my love, how are we to rule a world,
Which we no longer touch as it is far beyond our reach,
And the sad dreams of mortals, the keys to the door doth keep.

I fear my sweet Lord once we close our eyes,
The Avalon we know will no more be,
As the faith of mortals in their weakness fails,
Who then my Lord will hear our pitiful wails,
Who then my Lord will be left to believe,
Please tell me my Lord, tell your Queen,
That there will be naught for us to grieve.

Come my Lord, let us away,
And seek the soft sweet sound of the nightengale,
To break our sweet sleepy dreams,
For we shall open our eyes to the same sweet Avalon,
The one we have known from the beginning of time,
And here in thy arms all will be safe for we two,
And still all the world shall be yours and mine.


*Dedicated to AvalonianKnight. Peace my friend.

[Anita Blake]

A beautiful poem dedicated to an amazingly wonderful person!

[AvalonianKnight]

Thank you both!