I miss my forest bungalow,
and wondrous faerie friends,
the will o wisps dancing thru the trees,
the cries of the banshee on the midnight winds,
the moonbeams slicing thru the air,
offering spotlights to the performing elves.,
the bottles and potions of life everlasting
resting upon the dusty shelves.
When will I return? When will I be home?
I miss the magic, I miss my tomes…
The wisdom of the ages calls to me,
“Come home, return to thee.”
One day I shall be among the trees,
where mortality is but a dream.
©June 15, 2011 ~ DBC, Duke of the Arctic