The Emerald Isle
Sunlight caught in her copper hair,
As she rode across the lea,
Her head windblown and proud,
Glanced nowhere but at me.
Excitement growing within my chest,
I could scarcely contain my glee,
“It’s the fairy queen,” I whispered to myself,
“She’s finally come to me.”
Though the heather round about was in purple bloom,
And the morn was crisp and fair,
My eyes were drawn to her milk-white skin,
And her gleaming copper hair.
Upon her prancing coal-black horse,
She sat with practiced ease,
As she crossed the gap between us,
I stepped forward with trembling knees.
She offered her hand and slipped softly to the ground,
But with one swift move she deftly stepped away,
“Not yet, my lord,” she said with defiant look,
“You must agree with what I have to say.”
“Will you leave this copse of trees,
Where my fairies can dance by light of the moon?”
“Will you leave this magic circle of mushrooms,
And give us your protection, morning, night, or noon?”
“If you swear by your sword to the heavens above,
I will come to you willingly,
I will stay by your side wherever you go,
To the mountains, flatlands, or to the sea.”
I could not resist those shining emerald eyes,
Or the pleading silken voice,
And when my heart fluttered and almost stopped,
I knew I had no choice.
“All my lands which stretch from sea to shining sea,
Will be enchanted by your smile,
And we’ll give the land a worthy name,
We’ll call it the Emerald Isle.”
She smiled a smile that brought the birds to song,
And with a kiss sealed our vow,
And made the isle a magic land,
And it was, and is, even until now.