Wizard

The wizard stood upon the cliff,
his windswept cloak of starlight woven,
and raised his staff, and with a word,
sent the Darkness back to its lair.
His face, ‘twas ageless,
unwrinkled and unlined,
but his eyes held the wisdom
of a thousand years as they searched
the storm-torn sky for the Dark.
Not a single silver hair
graced his beard or unruly mane,
but there was the hint of it there,
a memory, perhaps, of
Other nights and
Other days.
And as he stood upon the cliff,
a silent watcher in the night,
he raised his staff, and with a word,
banished the demons of the Dark.

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The Elvin Star:
Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11

Short Stories:
For Robbie

Poems:
Wizard | White Witch

About the Author

©1999-2002 Lizbeth