Elven Musing

The magic of the moment lost in fog

Retains a sinful wishing of itself

To sit beside a busy little elf and ask an inane question for the joy

To watch a quick confusion raise a doubt

As ageless pointed ears twitch curl annoyed

What was it I was thinking of before

I turned and saw this figure at my door?

Just standing oh so tremble and demure

And then she smiled and I was lost at sea

To wonder where or whether I could be

So far adrift and lost as lost could be

Although the elf is laughing. full of glee

All is not really lost. She married me.

Author's Note

Another oldie

Reviews

[Tomás Ó C..]

Nice... but how will your missus like being called an elf ;-D

[emmajoy]

I laughed at the end, not out of amusement as such but because those last three words are just beautiful and I wasn't expecting them. To be lost in thoughts and then find reality is a joy is magical!

[Sel Whiteley]

I love your writing, your focus on the mythological mythologises your writing. There is such a classical feel to this poem reminscient of the Romantics and the ending is just beautiful, how sweet. Did you show this to your wife? I bet she was humbled and made happy if you did.