Poem of the Day




This portal

speaks to me of Narnia:

the last book, the last battle.


Long before Dr Who,

C.S. Lewis knew, we knew

of the stable bigger on the inside;


though that door was rough and wooden,

a portal can disguise itself

as a gate in a lichened stone wall.


But enter at your peril.

The Irish faery folk haunt castles

and barrows, and mortal souls


can wander their land for a day; returning

to find it is seven years or seventy.

And Narnia was a faery place.


Look, admire, beware; walk through –

only if you desire to be bewitched,

craving the adventure of your life.


Jaz Stutley


  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #21

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