The mist rises from the moss
On a silent
Peaceful evening as the
Last sun of the harvest sinks
Into the first night of winter.
The mist rises from the moss,
Between ancient ash and oak and elm.
A single, deep breath.
Close your eyes and hear
The living sounds of the
Eternal forest.
The last light of Samhain
Fades
And peace is shattered
By the madness of
Magic.
Beauty and
Danger.
The Wild Hunt.
The riders of the Sidhe
Gallop in dissonant rhythm,
Laughing wild with
The energy of life and death,
With the sheer mad joy
Of the hunt.
Run from it
Run with it.
The Wild Hunt
Is upon you.
About the Creator
Roderick Makim
Read one too many adventure stories as a child and decided I'd make that my life.
I grew up on a cattle station in the Australian Outback and decided to spend the rest of my life seeing the rest of the world.
For more: www.roderickmakim.com
Reader insights
Outstanding
Excellent work. Looking forward to reading more!
Top insights
Compelling and original writing
Creative use of language & vocab
Easy to read and follow
Well-structured & engaging content
Heartfelt and relatable
The story invoked strong personal emotions
Masterful proofreading
Zero grammar & spelling mistakes
On-point and relevant
Writing reflected the title & theme



Comments (2)
Love the imagery within your poem. Excellent writing
- Loving how you set the scene and built the atmosphere, with the moss, the silence and the first winter. I could hear and feel the rhythm as I read. 🌳Love the list after 'between'. Speeds up the flow and holds my attention. - I like the idea of hearing the living sounds of the eternal forest. 🌳 'Shattered by the madness of magic' I do really like that. 👌🏾 - love the ending. How it suggest either option. 'Run from it, run with it' definitely giving the Halloween vibe. Awesome work, Roderick 👌🏾 🤗 ❤️ 🖤