It amazes me, it does.
These sirens, these wondrous beauties
Riding upon beasts near as feral as they themselves.
Cloaks as white as the peaks they defend
Sleek and fit as the arrows they master
Carrying bows taller than a man
Knowing the wood more closely than you can imagine
It puts peace in my heart knowing that I am safe.
Razor-fine training, masterwork weapons
Diamonds to make a dwarf weep
made into arrowheads to pierce the mountains.
Smiles, frowns, and glares sharper than her arrows.
Indeed, they must surely be called nothing but
The Jewels of the Heart of the Vashnars.


This is my first Poetry post, as well as my entry into Corwin's contest.
In case you didn't figure, it is about the Mountain Archers who garrison
our fair city.

Penned by my hand on the 14th of Lupar, in the year 388 AF.