Sands and seashells as white as moonlit night
And water tugging slightly at the small boats
Trembling in the wake

“Far across the silvery sea”
Those little waves whisper to me
“From ocean dark and brooding blue, cross horizons bleeding red
is a land where the mists travel languidly through
and dangerous things betwixt the paths you tread.”

“There is a city that some say glows in the night
Whose towers ***** to glorious height
Domes and great structures stand below
Upon white stones, blue moonlight does glow.”

“If you swim out during the brooding storm
And torrential city make, with towers of black swirling wake
The sea will take and change your form
You will enter the depth and the depth will enter you
And sea imbued, you emerge anew.”

“On the second day, and the crest of red rising light
When Phoenix fly against the night
You will be ****** from water by the fiery wing
And to a new land take you as Phoenix songs it softly sings.”

“There you will encounter the dangers and things of strange delight
And the white walls of Elyse, whose light is cast upon the height.”

In olden days there lived a wife
Whose noble husband courted strife
He loved her little - just at night -
This knightly treatment wasn’t right.

He found her in the woodland wild
And took her for a wayward child
Making her his own for pity’s sake
While long regretting his mistake

Belittling her at every chance
Their love was lacking in romance
And when they came to Arthur’s court
He served her up in rags for sport.

But Queen Guinevere took pity
And dressed her in her finery
At which the husband fell for her
And took his way without deter.

At last grown slothful in his lust
He betrayed his knightly trust
And the lads of the Round Table
Questioned whether he was able

To sally forth on jousts or quests
Or polish up his chainmail vests -
And what is more said they made good
On any wants of knightlyhood.

At which he rode away with umbrage
Treating her as wayward baggage
Although he took her nonetheless
To keep the score on his contests.

He ordered her to ride ahead
And keep her tongue inside her head:
While he sought out each noble fight
She found a camp and cooked at night

With trolls and bandits on the way
She saw them first but could not say:
Distracting them she made them blink
And looking back gave knight-ward wink

But when the champion won the day
He sent her forward down the way
Driving chargers decked with *****
No words of thanks in line of duty.

Til in the forest depths a maiden cried
Beset by fire and to some ******* tied
A morsel for a dragon roast or fried
The fiery beasties’ shawarma undenied.

Then Enid much beguiled the monstrous worm
And calmed its embers with her nubile form -
While Geraint freed the nymphet from the stake
She shared her story with the horned snake.

At length she found her knight had upped and left
Leaving her beset, bamboozled and bereft
But then the dragon taken by her grief
Gave her the gold that stuck between its teeth.

So, she took the stolen armour that she held
And girded up with lance and sword in belt
Giving eager chase to nymph and errant knight
To teach him his behaviour wasn’t right.

She came upon her hubby in a glen
Enticing Elyse to a bowered den
He had fancied her since way back when -
He cut her bonds but tied them back again.

Then much in wrath our mounted maiden rode
Resplendent in her anger, brave and bold
And brought to joust Geraint the Oversold
But he took flight and fled the combat cold.

And Elyse was overcome with gratitude
For this gentlest of stranger’s hastilude
That he should save her from calamity
And never once assail her chastity.

‘Young Sir, my love is yours as you desire
I am a princess and my lands are yours
Come live with me and be my noble squire
And I will grant you what you may require’.

At which the champion laid her helm aside
And tossed the curls she could no longer hide:
‘I am no knight young beauteous maid
But just a woman that misfortune made’.

When Elyse saw such woe and courtly care
She loved the girl who stood so sadly there:
‘It matters not my lover and my life
You are my choice and I your loving wife’.

And then at last they came to rest at Camelot
Where Queen Guinevere reserved them a spot
At her table (which was like Arts’ non-square),
Where all were welcome to partake and share.

And they grew old in honour and renown
With songs of courtly love that still resound
For they had found their holy loving grail -
That gentlest of knights and her beloved girl.

And last was heard of Enid’s ex-Geraint
He was the fearsome dragon’s catamite -
And labour as he might to stir its blood
The slightest recognition was withstood.

A storm rages in the darkest part of her mind.
If you look closely, you can see the lightening flash
In her forest green eyes;
Creating something like a forest fire
That leaves you mesmerized.

A storm rages in the darkest part of her soul.
If you get close enough to her, you can hear
The thunder booming in her writing,
Contrasting against her soft demeanor,
Compelling you to read more.

A storm rages in the darkest part of her heart.
But you'll never get close enough to see the rain
Falling out of her eyes,
Diminishing the fire,
Strengthening the thunder.

She thinks she's weak.
But nothing weak can create such a storm.