A drop of morning dew drenches a puddle
Brandished curved carvings dot the landscape
Eerie glows shatter a clear conscious
Rage is consumed by natural passion
Deacons call across the village for prayer
Evident from the somber ocean sound
Enchantments deceive the smart
Noble hounds breach the primeval forest for prey
Dense reeds conceal the path to the unknowing
Unifying the desperate and disparate
Nurturing the fiery spirit of the hunt
Dales provide a pleasant morning walk
Empires from far away are held at bay
Evening moonlight surrounds the weary castle ruins
Faint snow trails frost the high hills
Instant pursuit of the charge
Rustling leaves tempt the wandering child forth
The saddle is ridden by the mighty warrior
Halting at the local lord's gate
Ogres bewilder the bog people
Flattery is the bedfellow of oaks
Flows of volcanic hell have ravaged few posts
Old cottages hum with nightly warmth
Roped into a dirty dealing
Turrets battered by Poseidon's torrents
Heaving ferries traverse the dense bays
Brave people never slain without a fight
Upright boulders relate to a simpler past
Run of the mill covens roam the cobbles
Neatly bound for all eternity
Solitude for the lone watchman
Barren landscapes break the screeching tides
A quaint homestead guarded on the mound
Gaining little favor beside a witch's graces
Perring through the dense afternoon fog
In combat they are easily undone
Piercing the hide with a spear thistle
Entering into a pact with a minion of darkness
Shepherds bring forth their prizes for the new year
YOU ARE READING
Whispers from the Wisps
PoetryA neat few acrostics for fans of the brave blue land that is Scotland
