Avalon

(Just a piece from my college poetry workshop.  I was in the middle of Mists of Avalon at the time)

The Isle of Avalon has withdrawn

Forever into mists

That can never again

Be called down to reveal

A place where enchantment

And the impossibility of a hidden world

Become reality, where

The moon opened a magical realm

In which the future was glimpsed

In a mirrorlike pool.

Avalon.

A world one could pass through

Without ever setting foot

On her shores…

But they tell me it was never real,

Only a creation of simpler times

When people believed in

Dragons,

Elves,

And a kingdom that arose

Out of the hands of a sorceress,

A time when people

Believed that unwary travelers

Could stumble into a fairy kingdom

Without even realizing they had strayed.

Yet even through the practicality

Of our analytical minds,

A longing for the magic

Of those primitive times remains.

Something in our subconscious stirs,

Subtle as starlight on a river,

Allowing the enchantment to live.

It can never totally vanish

Into the mists as Avalon did…

But wait!

Avalon is not entirely lost!

It can never truly fade away

As long as its enchantment lies

In the misty minds of poets,

Waiting,

Waiting to be discovered,

And rediscovered.