RicksCafe

You're kinda cute and flapper quaint,
but now you're dead, so now you ain't.

This poem is inspired by the work of LadyDelwynne, which you can find here on deviantArt: www.deviantart.com/ladydelwynn…

Hard on a Breton's gloaming day
When seabirds cry a rude-worked lay
To fill what's left of lowering skies,
A Celtic maiden mingles sighs.

The sea beats out a simple song
Of years long past and days long gone.
She strays on rocks that part the sea
As bulwarks built in Brittany.

She gazes past the stalking waves
To where the Romans make men slaves -
To England's green but ravaged shore
Where freeborn men are free no more.

For there enwrapped in foreign wars
Her lover wields for others' scores
A sword once blessed by Arthur's hand,
For stranger in a stranger's land.

For tyrant's sake she left withal
'cross water then and home to Gaul.
To save her life he bade her go
When winds were soft and seas were low.

At first for months and then for years
She kept her vigil, fought her tears.
He spoke these words when words were few,
"Even in Death, I'll come for you."

The years have rolled as all years do.
She only knows what lovers knew -
To trust in hope, to hope in fate,
And count the winters, wind her plait.

On storm-beat coast where storms must blow
And wind be wild, with sharpened woe
She kept her watch for all the night
When o'er the sea she sees a light !

A light! a boat! to her heart steers,
A promised filled across the years.
She knows - or does she simply rave? -
He's borne to her upon the wave.

Barefoot upon the rocks she runs
To greet the boat that toward her comes.
A sudden blaze of lightning shows
A lover's face that she well knows.

From her high perch she thrusts her arm
Extends her grasp to grace - or harm.
This maiden true bends to his calls,
Steps forward on her rock - and falls!

None understand the mind of God
Nor where we walk or whence we trod,
Nor what the fates will have in store
Or what our lives are reaching for.

At morning light they find her there
Dead on the rocks with twisted hair,
One arm stretched forward to the sea.
God grant her rest and set her free.

He spoke these words when words were few,
"Even in Death, I'll come for you."

"If it was tomorrow, you would be sitting over there."
                                                    -- Visitor #1, Inland Empire

So many times I lose those things
 - that never would be found.
So many times I call to you
 - when you were not around,

And said your name when you are gone
 - though you were never there.
These were the words I cannot speak
 - that you never could not hear.