Like shimmering fish through a laughing stream did the unicorns slip through the grove. Few sounds did they make, so light were their hooves upon the duff. Only the occassional rustle of leaves, too like the breeze in the boughs, whispered of their passage. Their scent was of mint and clover with a hint of rose. They were cloaked by the very light through which they moved, the errant sunrays glinting off their metallic coats to blind my eyes with mystifying flashes of argentum and aurum and platinum. Still, I knew they had come, paused a moment, and gone. An aura of spiritual reverence glittered among the settling dust. The shade had lost its menace, the foliage was more verdent and spry, and the very air was refreshed. Though, perhaps the most revealing signs of their brief presence were the new spring flowers that bloomed in their wake, even as the first chill of an early winter frosted the trees.
Copyright 2008 Shawna Lynn Ballard (aka The Silver Unicorn)
 The_Silver_Unicorn · Thu Jan 31, 2008 @ 07:19am · 0 Comments |
