A Royal
Waits in
Patience
As her
Lover’s bed
Grows colder;
He has
Passed this
Way, but
Once or
Twice, not
Wiser, but
Much older.

She feels
Him in the
Mist of
Time, once
Full of
Hope so
Shining,
When she
Looked to
Knight to
Stay the
Dark and
Help the
Moon in
Climbing.

With
Window
Clear of
Cover,
There’s no
Sight of
What’s she’s
Lost; no
Knight
Upon
Horizon,
No sword at
Bedside
Tossed.

She has
One
Choice: to
Choose
Between her
Passion and
Her
Manners, as,
Full alone,
She finds
No home
In happy
Ever-afters.

rjw, 10/01


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