The Girl That Was Forgotten
Virgin skin and smiling eyes
lightly steps in black disguise.
The shadowed depths to travel in
‘neath lofted moon’s pale unveiling.
Spirited way on her lover’s calls,
sneaks through silent mirrored halls,
through the arch of guiltless pleasure,
down unknown flights of enthused lore.
Startled by the prickly shifting breeze
that stirs the ground that shadows seize.
Upon the hill steely gate unfairly wrought!
‘Tis the place where her lover sought,
and bid her in the high of the night,
through misshaped gate, past blinking light,
past chiseled warriors and over cobbled bridge
to their first meeting place the old garden ridge.
In shivering skin she stubbornly waits
pondering naught why her lover is late.
Her innocent heart not broken nor bent
doth not see what impatience may invent.
A tidy minute leads to a weary score,
a guard’s hour, and then many more.
Now heavy lidded her frowning eyes
play witness to the changing of the skies.
The darkness fades to the colour of rum
as she wishes well for whatever did become
of her lover, his kisses and knightly accord
to flatter her with the poetry she adored.
Her innocent heart somnolent and beset
lays its new pillow in the night of regret.
The dawning now bells jilted and wronged
for the girl was forgotten by the love that she longed.
Copyright © Mathieu De Casanove | Year Posted 2009
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