Joy

I heard, one winter's night,
in the confines of my room,
the horns of Elfland calling--
their blasts keening in the gloom.

In their sacred melody,
the dream begins to descend--
the dream that seeps into the minds
of conquerors and children.

The vast, empty Northlands--
they were calling to me!
Luring me across the mists
of a boundless sea.

Cold, lonely mountains
and far-reaching plains
echoed the enchantment
of the song's refrain.

Stark, treeless climes
and deeply wooded vales
stirred in me the wonder
entombed in ancient tales.

A shadow-haunted sunset
gave way to stars filled with jubilation
and breezes in the night
trembled in exultation.

In just a moment I returned
from the Northern shore,
but the horns of Elfland's calling
I shall hear evermore.

Briseis Phemonoe

Briseis is a 15 year old talented young lady at

http://briseis.blogster.com/

or

http://briseispoet.blogspot.com/