The Land of Lost Hope

Through the thicket
Through the grass
This how I became lost to the king
Of Harknott Pass
Perspiration dampens my hair
Muddy boots, slipping through
Bracken, fly agaric rings
Completely unaware of the world
I have stumbled in, my heart
Now in possession of the goblin king
Until he stands before me
In his golden, oak leaf
Glory, foreboding eyes
As old as the earth beneath
Our feet and I swear as our
Gazes meet he captures my soul
For eternity to keep
Come little one he beckons me
With ambrosia & roses, helplessly
Enchanted I suddenly be
There is no time to look to the past
With closure, come they chant, sing
Magnolias sway
A crown of thorns, spider silk dress
Only the best for the Harknott fae
And the queen who shall
Keep the human plain at bay
And as I take the hand of
The otherworldly man, sat upon
The ivy throne of Cumberland I
Pause to reflect on now and before
How many? I ask my alder husband
‘Always you’ he replies with a golden
Smile and there within the lies is my truth
I am the golden haired girl of
The lakes old folklore
Goblins, elves, fae & bees
Dance in merriment before him & me
Lost to the music, I give in at last
My fate bound and lost to the king
Of Harknott Pass
© 2021 Melanie Whitlock. All Rights Reserved.

Melanie Whitlock is a writer, historian and poet hailing from Cumbria. With supernatural roots from her grandparents, her life is rich with magic and steeped in folklore. Her writing work has been included in national magazines, newspapers and she uploads short pieces daily to twitter. Her first supernatural/romance novel is expected late next year. You can find her between the moon and stars.