I reach the yonder shore
of dreams lost to day's chimes.
Eyes closed, yet I ignore
the lingering call to sleep.
I rise before the cymes
on which the dew does seep.
I wash my face of grimes,
while silent as a mouse.
For if I loose a peep,
my handmaids will then rouse.
This time is mine to keep:
I will not abandon her.
My mind begins to dowse
for what waits in time's blur.
From depths still cold I bouse
event of great import.
At once, light does enter
into this room, my fort.
As if now struck by spur,
my maid does breach abode.
"Ah mistress, you stir.
Your big day awaits,
where elders defer
to your choice of fates."
I nod, my time cut short,
by one who keeps her code.
As hair does seek to thwart
my eyes, do I take seat.
The matron makes plaits
of my hair unkempt.
"Your will now creates
the world we attempt.
Say it, and we empt
ourselves for your task."
Her hand, she adempt,
and shields eyes abask.
Though I know not my road,
I still, to share heartbeat.
"In truth, what you are owed
for service, I cherish.
Just claim your wish, what feat,
and it shall grow, flourish."
I tilt my head, eyes meet,
and I await reply.
"Do not as such ask.
My word does not lie
with you, yet to pasque,
but one beyond sky."
Her hands now work, bearish;
But I let loose no cry.
"A lady does perish
When she does bare her heart."
Comments
No posts