Mayberrie ~ Part III

Mayberrie ~ Part III

.

Would that he could give

a hundred prayers

behind the doors

sealed shut with blood;

and would that he could journey

through such ventures

in his mind,

but t’was a graceless peace

and none could blunt the edges

of the siege.

~

They all came in to parlay

in the temple of the gods,

to cavort with ailing mistresses

and count their stolen gold.

But one among them

saw the faces

etched into the altar –

it was he that spoke the word

against the body-guard

and t’was he who’d never bend

his sterling sword again.

~

She stared into the candle’s fire,

saw the great procession

stirring dust around his feet;

and when he slept, she knew —

she felt his fingers

press her palm

till unsolved tears

ran down her face

and dowsed the flame once more.

~

Alas, it was all over

before the contract was revealed

and so he rode

the slippery night

disowning fate,

hiding his name,

for now the crown might never know

true royalty again

and countrysides could shrink

in misplaced blame.

 ~

It was late summer

when they rode inland

hidden from the lochs —

just one name

between them now

and only the forest to know.

~

And there was time

for one last secret

tip-toe on the path,

dancing the euphoria

of outlaws in the rain,

singing in soft voices

thick with brews of fantasy.

~

The fire never caught her skirt

nor blistered her bare feet

when she ran away from orders,

for she knew

the priests were wrong:

no one burns in hell

when lovers meet.

~

And the crow knew too

though his wing

dragged on the ground.

It knew that they

would follow hence

from shadows born in history,

to visions in his silent eye

of farther places,

mended wings

when black would turn to white

and he would fly again.

~

She walks the twilight path

to the sea

and waits the mist

that comes with the tide,

and in the shadows

her grey cloak

rides night-time like a veil.          

~

And the moon will fill

a thousand times over

and bring their orbits

together again.

But now she folds

her body down

on salt-warm sand

to melt her bones

into the earth

to leave this tired plane,

and fly across the cliffs

to Mayberrie.

.

©  1995, 2012  Betty Hayes Albright

 

 

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