Andrew Crisci Poet Ballad

Theadora And Mark

It's not a tale told by a bard,
Theadora was a gift from God:
that light gliding over vawes
at sunrise, as it showed
all its splendor on mornings
of melodic sound.

Theadora loved Mark...
that was her ingrown spark, 
never ignored or put aside;
they enjoyed being one.
Was there a jealous threat
that could separate them
and wound their pride?
Was their hope gone?

The beautiful memory
of Theadora and Mark
lived on in poetry,
never forgotten
by lovers who remembered
it quite often;
somebody saw the tragedy,
how they drowned screaming
in a troubled sea colder than ice.
He didn't help at once,
all he felt was revenge increasing.
Their pain was sharper
than a shrieking lark
that lost his life
in that terrible hurricane.

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