The legends won't tell
of Arthur when he fell in love
when he swooned for the arm that held Excalibur
extended out to him
how he did a double take
and stuttered and gawked
at the simple beauty of her flawless freckled skin.
And in this moment
I behold the Lady of the Lake
her divine completeness:
holy and whole.
Elegant sloping shoulders
a regal neckline pleading to be united
with loving lips
in an everlasting caress.
Water droplets dripping from her form--
reluctant,
wishing they could reverse the laws of nature
fall up from the surface
to bead and cling to skin again--
desiring to be as close as we
as she entrances me with emerald eyes
rivers of red hair
enchanting lips that know no equal.
She's won me over
and she drags me under
below the water
beneath the lapping waves.
The ripples on the surface
echo my farewell to the world.
Not entirely sure what birthed this. I mean sure, I have a redhead thing. But the Arthurian element is something I don't often contemplate. The musings of a tired mind, I guess.
