The years have robbed them –
of youth, strength, seedlings, soil.
Yet still they stand,
hand in hand,
heart in heart,
staring down the approaching winter
with eyes bleary but wise.
Theirs has been
a rising above,
a conquering of Kingdoms.
And on the brink of leaving this for the next,
they raise shaking heads
to be crowned at last
There’s a way through the wet that will whisk you to dreams
Where Narnian kingdoms are just what they seem,
And elf-sprites and fairies more real than your skin
Cavort there, and frolic along with their kin;
The door only opens but once in 10 years,
And many will miss it in their short careers;
So when you hear hinges to ports in the sky
Hold on to the magic, lest it pass you by…