The Land of Bedelay
Legend has it, that in the land of Bedelay,
there resides a tribe of Elder, Wood Fey.
Faerie keepers of the Elder trees,
who ride upon the whispering breeze.
The Elder or the Sambucus,
has bred many magical instruments.
Its blackened berries, keep you well;
but red ones sound a true death knell.
And the magic of an elder harp,
played at dusk, just before dark;
can lull you into deepest sleep,
as dreams into your head, doth creep.
Elder Mother, she will share,
her secrets with those, napping there.
Beware though, make offering unto her tree,
Before partaking, and she’ll bless thee.
The Wood Fey, guard Elder Mother well;
disrespect her and you’re under a spell.
You could easily become an Elder Tree;
if you don’t believe, dare and you’ll see.
Never cross, Elder Mother, the Wood Fey
or any other being, in their vicinity.
Otherwise, an Elder tree,
she’ll make of thee!
Copyright © M. L. Kiser | Year Posted 2023
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment