Peace, by the side of the river
Naught but the chattering of birds
In the endless blue sky
And the whisper of insects on the air
As the grass stirs gently
Here, in this meadow strewn with buttercups
A dazzling golden carpet
Fit pageantry for a summer king
Even now I think of you
Of that last day in August
I seem to see you riding through this place
The mighty hooves of your great charger
Stepping carefully in the dry grass
The scent of wood-smoke blown to me
Across the meadow
And my skin tingles with the memory
Of you
Noble prince, gentle duke of my heart
How tender is your smile as you draw nearer
Dismount fluidly and tether the beast
Though why should it stray from so perfect a spot
Any more than I would stray from you?
You lie beside me in the gold-pocked grass
Cast off the riding cloak
And lay it beneath your ebon hair
Your eyes glitter like emeralds up at me
As your smile deepens
The skin about your eyes wrinkling
In early lines of tension
The responsibility hangs heavily on your
Broad shoulders, I know
I, who know you so well,
Am little fooled by your smile
Though eager enough to pretend to believe it
My noble lord beside me
The world seems far away now
The dread foreboding of the future forgotten
This moment is for us alone
A brief respite from the journey to destruction
You pluck a buttercup from the sward
And tease my skin with it
Gentle now, those hands that are no
Unwilling strangers to a killing blade
My lover's hands so oft stained with blood
Now dappled with river water
As you splash me
Laughing
My eyes prick with tears to hear that sound
So long distant, so long buried
Is it wrong of me to want those simple days
Of our youth once more?
I lay in the grass, heavy on this day with your child
A child – had I known it, cursed I should have called it –
That you would never see
Watching you play in the river
Like a carefree boy yourself
Now, when least welcome it is,
A premonition or a memory comes to me
And I cannot tell if it is you there,
My lord,
Or the son you never knew.
[24th May 2009]
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