He was pierced through the heart by my long held foe
He fell to the floor in a twilight haze
From and elf was the arrow, the enchanted bow
Did make him descend to a horrid craze
Wrent was the night by my anguished cries
The moon shivered to see my condition
But tears, pain and tormented sighs
Could not save him from his affliction
I left him then, to forge a medicine
Some nettle, some plantain and sweet feverfew
Some wine and he’ll come back to me
Though while I went a gaze looked in
And pulled him neath the eldest yew
Now my love is nowhere to see.
C.M. Wellsmore 