I approach the archway, puffed, ready to sit
As I do, I know magic was born here
The pond is still,
a whispered voice calls, bring it back
Bring what back I wonder,
as much as I wonder who long ago
may have walked down these steps
Did they have royal blood?
Did they drive magic away?
I feel the grey stone walls around me
Gently tapping my mind
Think, what has been taken,
Can you bring it back, keep magic alive?
Don’t let the stories fade into the mist
It placed here by the order of the dying King
Without the sword the story fades, the magic dies
Find it, bring it back, let magic live again…
© Anita Dawes 2021