Spirit Musings

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Bright Face of Illusion...a story poem

The troubador weaved echoes threading notes through the trees,
down the green corridor of grass and winding along the river
Birds sang in harmony for he resonated with all that lived,
but his tenderness he saved for the creatures of the forest
There was seduction in his songs and once he tempted me...
With a sweet tune from his lips and a promise spoken in haste,
he cast a spell on my heart and soul and in trust I believed him
He was fair of face yet dark of disposition and he moved with grace
My choice was to follow blindly for the music was hypnotic
and I was a prisoner in my solitude, lanquishing in lonliness
And my love for him eclipsed all I had ever known
We were to meet at midnight at the Great Stone of Sorrows,
for the moon was his mistress tho I was to be his bride
I wore a gown of pale green silk with a gold embroidered bodice
and threaded flowers of violet and white lilies through my hair,
so nervous with anticipation that I thought I would faint
At once I sensed something afoot, shadows moved beyond the light,
darting quickly from left to right and a chill descended apon me
I called out to the depths of the trees in search of my love
What met my eyes in the darkness were two red glowing orbs
I was frozen where I stood tho the instinct to run overwhelmed me,
but something pulled me into those eyes of fire-something familiar
And as the figure creeped closer to me and moved into the moonlight,
I saw the face of a wolf...I would have screamed in terror
but I saw dolcility and it's mouth nor it's stance was pulled up as in assault
The animal just stood there within two stones of me,
fur of silver and panting softly, his breath heaving great, white clouds
With a trembling hand I reached out to touch the beast
and his rough tongue bathed my hand with wet and tender kisses
My confusion was multiplied for this snenario made no godly sense
Where, pray tell, was my love? Why had he forsaken me?
And then, with one last look, the silver wolf ran off into the night
and I heard the crying pleas of a lone howling in the distance

This was originally written in response to a challenge at another site, but I was

too late to post it. I would like to expand this into a short story. Any suggestions

would be appreciated. Especially from you, Marie! You have experience in this

genre. Thank you...Lin

I enjoyed this immensely and look forward to more installments.

If you're interested in other Story Poems - one of the best I've ever read is Anita's - "The Lantern" - it's posted here under Serial Works - Anita - The Lantern.

Thank you, Sassy...Read Anita's write and it is absolutely fantastic!!

Lin

Linny-This is fantastic. Loved it.

I have got to try my hand at this

style of writing. It's very emotive

and this particular poem-prose

This is a wonderfully intriguing story/poem. Sensuality blended with terror is a winning combination. I particularly love this line:

"For the moon was his mistress tho I was to be his bride."

So much is said in that one line.

I encourage and hope to see this entrancing story embellished and published.

Applause & Compliments!

Dale & Mindy-thank you so much! Yes, Dale this form of writing would lend itself to your metaphysical muse. It's freeing in a sense not having to worry about structure and it's constraints. But this is a personal thorn in my side, as you seem to rise above in spite of it...

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