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'Twas long ago in a castle on a hill, I lay abed on my lavender pillow.
A soft breeze stirred my thoughts as it whispered through yon willow.
Deep in purple twilight moments, on the verge of sleep it seems,
I rode upon a white stallion behind the man of my moonlight dreams.
He was a knight in shining armor, his hair as dark as midnight skies.
In moonlight I saw the width of his shoulders, and the stars in his eyes.
He breached the high castle wall and knelt beside the foot of my bed.
A soft smile touched his lips. "Princess, I love you," was all he said.
Shadowed mist closed around us but I felt no need to be frightened.
Once his arms closed around me, my need to be loved was heightened.
The castle on a hill was filled with lots of love, music, and laughter.
True love had found its way to me: a revered love to last forever after.

'Twas long ago in a castle on a hill, I lay next to him in an ebony bed.
My knight was turning into a stranger I would soon come to dread.
My mind became unclear about his feelings, and I was full of doubt,
What happened to my knight, the one I didn't want to live without?
His suit of armor was now tarnished; his white steed had run away.
He told me I should leave, and in the next breath he begged me to stay.
Illusions and delusions in my heart.  Life was unravelling at the seams.
I knew I was losing the love I had known, the man of my relucent dreams.
He slipped out of my arms and stood at the window of the castle tower.
One of us was descending into madness as silence lingered by the hour.
Our chamber had grown so cold, no words were spoken to soften the pain.
My tears fell in silence, as abundantly as the Spring's profusion of rain.

'Twas late night in a castle on a hill, I lay abed on my lavender pillow.
A soft breeze stirred my thoughts as it whispered through yon willow.
Alone in the castle tower, I grew fearful of ever again closing my eyes.
By light of day and dark of night I searched for truth but found only lies.
I prodded and examined my mind and heart for each worn memory
of what we had shared, of what was, was not, or of what might yet be.
The answer was to go on living, so I picked up what was left of my heart,
sorely wounded but still beating, although it was missing a vital part.
I dared to save my own soul from despair, weeping with dismal sorrow.
I still dream my knight returns to me. It gives me hope for each tomorrow.
At Winter's end he'll ride up to my castle wall and once again say to me,
"Princess, I love you.  Please forgive me. Our love is not a mere fantasy."


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  April 20th, 2016
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