Victoria In Stonehenge
© Surazeus
2017 02 17
Through ancient oak forest, where silver mist
sparkles from moonlight that beams through clouds,
young Victoria in white cotton gown glides
along the lush shore of the silver stream.
Through branches where ravens flutter long wings
young Victoria hears eerie melody
of silver voice shimmering on midnight breeze
which draws her among asphodels.
Through tangled vines that part at her soft touch,
young Victoria steps into ring of stones
where ancient woman with long silver hair
sings heart-aching melody on large stone.
"My Albrecht rode forth on prancing white horse
to protect our home from invading hordes
but he never returned to my warm arms
so he must lie dead in cold field of mud."
Through cobwebs that flutter in midnight breeze,
young Victoria climbs steps up ancient stone
and kneels before old woman on oak throne
whose silver eyes shimmer with clear moonlight.
Old woman looks up from book on her lap
and turns thick pages that flutter in wind,
sliding her finger along Runes that glow
more silver than moonlight on flowing stream.
"White asphodels blossom from broken skull
of noble Albrecht who reigned by my side
and guarded my life in Alfheim our home,
yet still I hear his bold voice on the wind."
Sitting on Wolf Throne beside the old crone,
Victoria lifts crown that lies among nuts
and wipes its gems clean of cobwebs and dust,
that places it shining on her bowed head.
"I reigned as Fairy Queen in ring of stones
that once shone bright with revels of our feast,
foundation for hall of oak walls and cone roof,
but Stonehenge now lurks empty on vast plain."
Her eyes shimmer bright as moonlight on lake
as ancient crone, once Fairy Queen of Light,
gazes at ghosts of her friends who once danced,
singing weird tales at round tables of fruit.
Through silver mist drifting among tall stones,
young Victoria almost sees dancing ghosts,
and almost hears tone of their voices ring
on the wind that swirls hair around her face.
Alone in Stonehenge at dawn she awakes,
young Victoria wearing white cotton gown,
and long black hair flows like raven wings,
as she dances and sings in gold sunlight.
© Surazeus
2017 02 17
Through ancient oak forest, where silver mist
sparkles from moonlight that beams through clouds,
young Victoria in white cotton gown glides
along the lush shore of the silver stream.
Through branches where ravens flutter long wings
young Victoria hears eerie melody
of silver voice shimmering on midnight breeze
which draws her among asphodels.
Through tangled vines that part at her soft touch,
young Victoria steps into ring of stones
where ancient woman with long silver hair
sings heart-aching melody on large stone.
"My Albrecht rode forth on prancing white horse
to protect our home from invading hordes
but he never returned to my warm arms
so he must lie dead in cold field of mud."
Through cobwebs that flutter in midnight breeze,
young Victoria climbs steps up ancient stone
and kneels before old woman on oak throne
whose silver eyes shimmer with clear moonlight.
Old woman looks up from book on her lap
and turns thick pages that flutter in wind,
sliding her finger along Runes that glow
more silver than moonlight on flowing stream.
"White asphodels blossom from broken skull
of noble Albrecht who reigned by my side
and guarded my life in Alfheim our home,
yet still I hear his bold voice on the wind."
Sitting on Wolf Throne beside the old crone,
Victoria lifts crown that lies among nuts
and wipes its gems clean of cobwebs and dust,
that places it shining on her bowed head.
"I reigned as Fairy Queen in ring of stones
that once shone bright with revels of our feast,
foundation for hall of oak walls and cone roof,
but Stonehenge now lurks empty on vast plain."
Her eyes shimmer bright as moonlight on lake
as ancient crone, once Fairy Queen of Light,
gazes at ghosts of her friends who once danced,
singing weird tales at round tables of fruit.
Through silver mist drifting among tall stones,
young Victoria almost sees dancing ghosts,
and almost hears tone of their voices ring
on the wind that swirls hair around her face.
Alone in Stonehenge at dawn she awakes,
young Victoria wearing white cotton gown,
and long black hair flows like raven wings,
as she dances and sings in gold sunlight.
What a dream
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