The Lady of the Tower by John Evans
I see her pass to and fro,
Beyond the garden wall,
Unshod upon the deathless grass,
Like some fleeting nymph.
Her raven eyes follow me,
Whenever I stumble near,
And seem to call my concealed name,
As if I were her lord.
But when I dare to speak to her,
She silences me with an outstretched hand,
And looks tenderly upon my honest countenance,
Ere returning to her keep.
Two knights dressed all in black,
Escort her up a winding road,
That leads to a windowless tower,
The color of smooth obsidian.
What times and seasons pass therein,
No mortal man can tell.
For a deeper magic than our own,
Wards that dreadful berg.
What fell spirit haunts those fields,
No profit can descry.
For long ago their doom was wrought,
By fate’s solemn shaping.
Wandering-
Wandering-
Alone I spy her prison,
Frowning high above the hills,
Like a fallen giant.
Pondering-
Pondering-
Alone I watch her dance,
More radiant than the Harvest moon,
Until her sentinels arrive.
If only I was an elfin king,
Used to such wizardry,
I would woo her from that enchanted glade,
And attend to my own kin.
But as I am a man like thee,
Ignorant in witchcraft,
I must take up my weathered shield,
And endure what must be endured.
If you enjoyed this poem, John’s book, ‘Adam’s Lament,’ is available from Oloris Publishing https://www.legendarium.org/?s=oloriscollections/non-fiction/products/adams-lament
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