White Witch
Her delicate white dress
shimmers and shines
with the light of a thousand
silvery moonbeams,
sighing and swishing,
blown by the gentlest
of winds as she stands
by the Lake of Dreams, and,
with regal grace, dips
Three elegant white fingers
into the silver of the water,
and, stepping lightly,
like a dancer, sprinkles it
in a circle about her
ethereal form.
With a whispered word from
the coral-carved lips,
the droplets burst into
magical fire,
an impassable barrier
of woven power
as she stands by
the Lake of Dreams,
weaving spells
to check the Dark.
The Elvin Star:
Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11Short Stories:
For RobbiePoems:
Wizard | White Witch©1999-2002 Lizbeth