A Maiden’s Folly

On a cold winter’s morn she rose early

her heart as heavy as the sky outside

Today is the day of a maiden’s folly

Today she’s a widow, no longer a bride

She dresses in her finest gown

her jewel, her prize clasped to her breast,

on a fine chain of gold, his gift to her

still warm from the heat of her hand

Today she buries the love of her life

she buries the Lord of the Manor.

Today she entrusts him to Mother Earth

and into her arms, he is welcome

She gathers his sword, his shield and his helm

she gathers the things that he lived and died for,

the scent of the man still on his tunic

his chain mail alone in the corner.

She goes to the window, she sees not the scene,

instead she recalls two lovers entwined

A man dark and handsome as the lady was fair

their bodies aglow in the moonlight.

For hours they were joined as one

and as the sun rose, they slate their thirst

his finest wine, they drained the cup

and in each other’s arms they slumbered.

She plays with the jewel around her neck

a scent bottle brought from afar.

She remembers the way their bodies cooled in the dawn’s early light

as she brushes a tear from her emerald eyes.

She twists her raven hair into a knot

and from below a scream echoes.

They’ve discovered the lovers, their embrace eternal.

Today she’s a widow, no longer a bride.