Faerie Rade

It is dusk and the trees create long shadows on the dense woodland floor.  The old oak tree’s roots protrude from the earth; ivy has climbed the trunk and entwined its branches.  Nearby a leafy pathway winds its way through the trees flanked by bracken, brambles, ferns and bluebells.  This is the domain of the fey and the veil is lifting.

An owl hoots, a deer rustles in the undergrowth and a gentle breeze whispers through the leaves.  Enchanting music drifts through the air as coloured lanterns begin to bob between the trees.  The beautiful elven come into view, some are walking, others are on horseback, but all move with grace.  As they talk and laugh amongst themselves, their slanted eyes twinkle and their pointed ears protrude from their thick hair.  They have sumptuous flowing robes of coloured silk and velvet.

The horses are highly strung, their manes are plaited with tiny bells and their long tails flow out behind them as they move along on tiptoe.  The procession emanates an auric light and an overwhelming sense of love and peacefulness.   The Elf King and Queen ride by and dusk drifts into moonlight.   Moonbeams light up the glistening crystals in their crowns and catch the sparkling threads of their garments.

The last of the faerie folk file by, their cloaks trailing along the woodland pathway and their lanterns bob into the distance until all that is left of the Rade is the enchantment of the music not quite remembered.

Inspired by a Faerie Treasury

Jacky Newcomb and Alicen Geddes-Ward

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3 thoughts on “Faerie Rade

  1. tigerbrite Post author

    For Sunday Scribblings. I can’t leave comments on your page unfortunately, but I hope you enjoy this fairytale I wrote when I first started my blog.

  2. Old Egg

    You should collect the old postcards of Margaret Tarrant whose talent was to illustrate the fairy world much as you describe. Beautiful work.

    1. tigerbrite Post author

      I hope you read this because I am unable to post comments on your blog. I visited your blog and was enchanted by the poem about Frensham little pond, a fine tribute to your late wife. I knew the pond well and saw a kingfisher there. The only one in the whole of my life. Such beauty I shall never forget.

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