Is he partly just a legend Or a bit of fairy tale? From a time so long ago When magic ships set sail? Verses from an ancient story Or a page from history torn? Is there really such a thing As a snow-white unicorn? Hailed by folks of long ago As an omen of good times He's honored in a thousand songs A hundred different rhymes Poets write about him In sagas brave and wild But does he still live anywhere Except the small heart of a child? Perched upon her mother's knee For all of her short life She's heard the tales that she'll repeat When she's a mother and a wife... So many times she's heard of how He came before mankind was born Floating down upon a cloud Snow-white with silver horn... And seated at her window She stares up at the sky For answers to her questions The biggest one is why? "If you were ever really there Why can't you let me see? I'd never tell a single soul Except for you and me! They say you are so beautiful And if I had one wish... It would be to meet and talk with you At night I dream of this!" Her small chin rests upon her hand Her eyelids start to fall... When all at once, she's wide awake She's heard someone softly call: "Wake up, wake up, my little one Your wish has just come true... For no one else in all the world Has faith as strong as you!" And staring out the window With wide, astonished eyes She saw a tiny unicorn Who looked both sad and wise! As white as freshly-fallen snow With a spiral silver horn, He said, "No one except the children Still believe in unicorns! Once upon a time we numbered More than all the stars above But man's too busy building bombs To have time for things like love And love is what we came here for That day so long ago God sent us down to be a sign So men of earth would know... |
| And perhaps, if folks could still possess The faith of little children Their world would not be threatened by Such deadly devastation!" Then he smiled sadly, Came and by her window stood, Said softly, "May your life be filled With all things sweet and good!" Then before he turned to trot away, He said, "Tell your children when they're born Of the night you really, truly saw The last living unicorn..." And so the tales are handed down Through each new generation... How much is truth? The answer lies In your own imagination!! Dusty Richardson c 1981 (written as a bedtime story for my daughter Kathleen, when she was 6 years old!) |
| UNICORN |


| GOT A COMMENT? VIEW OR SIGN THE GUEST BOOK! GO TO NEXT POEM RETURN TO PREVIOUS POEM RETURN TO TITLES PAGE RETURN TO SITEMAP RETURN TO FRONT PORCH |