Poem 3
The King

 
 

“But how was it, my gentle Lady
That thou hast fallen unaware
Into the dangerous snare
Of a stranger king´s castle?”
Oh my Sleepless Knight
It may have been the light…
See, eventide was falling
Over the valleys and mountains
Covering rivers and fountains
With a layer of mystery and gold...
I walked alone among the grass
Touching with sweet caress
The purple heather on the hills.
And suddenly he was there
His eyes shining, his face fair
His bearing shy and daring…
“My Lady, art thou a sprite
Dressed so in blue and white?”
Oh no, my beauteous Sir!
I come from the worlds beyond
Seeking a place to abscond
From those who´d do me harm…
“Come then with me to my castle
The weather is turning brittle
The sky is promising rain!”
I looked up – to the stars above
But only saw two eyes of dove
Dark curls blowing as feathers
And a voice, fresh as a spring.
“Come, my love… I am the king!”
And the world ceased to exist…
 
Dalva Agne Lynch
Enviado por Dalva Agne Lynch em 01/06/2016
Reeditado em 05/09/2016
Código do texto: T5654233
Classificação de conteúdo: seguro
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