Misty Moe Magadar, keeper of night;

Cold crystal ice towers, city of white;

Clouds whip and whisper, winds scream and pine;

Cold dread, as slow the sun rises behind.

Moe Mountain, steep ridges, sheer pointed peak;

Travellers ancient, a pathway to seek;

With patterns etched fine in the old twisted rock;

Clutching a key, search sacred a lock.

For treasures lie deep within Moe Magadar;

Lost secrets sought bravely from lands of afar;

The truths of fair sages from kingdoms long gone;

Hidden wisdom trapped, leads the sole keeper on.

Sue Cartwright

Spiral Leaf