Midnight laced the sky's blue moon.
The lights in the castle shone out loud.
The lady of the house be gone.
Wrapped in cloak of night sky blue.
The verdant field met late night's lights.
With nearly morning breeze.

Then there came the turbulence.
A hurricane.
Over the drawbridge.
feeling the force.
Weather beaten and worn.
The oak door screams back.
It's fighting against its hinges.
She's led into the parlour.
Taken by the hand of her faithful lord.
The lonely lord of live alone.
A silent servant sleeps downstairs,
Privately hidden in the cellar under the house.

A tray of nuts and garlic butter mushroom nibbles presented.
Delivered with a scrumptious glass of warming scarlet wine.
Any port in a storm.
He had collected them that morn,just before the break of dawn.
Oh that the darkest time of day.
The mushrooms he'd collected.
Were very very wrong.
The housemaid entered the drawing room.
Quiet as a house mouse.
She couldn't wake them up.
Didn't dare.
They were sleeping silently, within death's cold embrace.
She paid but no attention, as she stoked the angry fireplace.
(c) Livvi