Glory

The years have robbed them –

of youth, strength, seedlings, soil.

Yet still they stand,

tottering together,

hand in hand,

heart in heart,

staring down the approaching winter

with eyes bleary but wise.

Theirs has been

a journey,

a defiance,

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

with glory.

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The Portal

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…