​​​​​​​Margaret Wall

 

Amongst the high celestial peaks

Tall pines stand ancient, unique

A sea of mist rides up the valley

Storm clouds crash, sounds carry

Floating island, living spire

Words of enchantment full of fire

Voices waken from the past

A shout, alarm, trumpet blast

Clash of steel, a horse rides fast

Banner swirls, shaft of light

helmet glistens, imperial sight

Here the brave young warriors stood

Their dreams, their fears understood

Seared into this shield of wood

Now the skies begin to clear

Sights and sounds no longer appear

Only soft winds revere

Is that a voice, I strain to here