Vickie Moore

The Unicorn

He stood there in the morning light and watched me for awhile,
then, stomped a hoof and shook his head and spoke to me with a smile.

"you don't believe in horses with coats of crimson red,
that I can talk to you much less have a horn upon my head.

I realize, by the look in your eyes, your doubting all you see.
Listen well, to the tale I tell and soon you will believe.

Though gentle creature that I am, I once ruled the forest green.
Where song birds sang and clear brooks ran and the air was fresh and clean.

I have waded through the golden falls where the sad moon cries her tears.
Where dreams grow wild and starlight falls and reality disappears.

I have gazed upon the firelight of elves and wizards and kings.
I am the ghost of the night, the poets elusive dream.

I am the childrens make believe. I am fantasy's flowing pen.
The untold mystery. The dream that time began."

With these words he turned away and faded into the trees.
The last words I heard him say..."Remember me in your dreams.

Sing songs of me lest I disappear and fantasy's all die.
Tell them all that I've you here... for the Unicorn am I."
By Vickie Moore
December 1981