I’ve Seen Nary a One

Watching the skies
hoping to see
the tiniest glimmer
of scale or of wing
they ride the winds high
over forest and dell
hunting on the breeze
for treasures of yore
never have I seen them
but ever do I try

In the forests there exists
another of long ago
a great beast of legend
whose might well you know
the horn shines bright
on a moonless night
to guide lovers lost
their hooves knell like bells
as they step light on forest paths
but never have I heard the sound

In sylvan holds
live those who know
the magic of song and dance
the ones who weave their art in trees
and guide the plants aloft
the sylvan folk once traveled out
but nary does now

in cavern hold lives
those who know
the song of metal’s chime
life in the forge fire
hammer’s metronome
to sing with steel and iron
armor forged and blades cast
in a cavern underground
once found their way to markets ours
but nary anymore

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