The Apple
Under Autumn's golden glow
the apple hangs in teasing style
to tempt unwary from the path
that wanders true
through Thranduil's realm.
.~.
The elves who dwell within this place
do shy away from outside world
and thus their home is hid away.
So forest plays
its vexing games.
.~.
The apple gently bobs in place
it knows its work and does it well
as foreign hand is raised to pluck,
The apple swings,
The path is lost.
.~.
King Thranduil feels the forests glee
as twisting roots trip stranger's feet
and acorns rain from shaking boughs
whose impish mirth
keep silvans safe.
.~.
Outsiders wander in a daze
unknowing they are being led,
Until at last to their surprise,
The forest clears,
The edge perceived.
.~.
And so the apple smugly hangs
as tempting as it ever was,
in readiness to lure again
unwary from
this mystic realm.
A/N
Thank you so much for reading. I know poetry is not to everyones taste and this may not be the best but I do hope you enjoyed it.