Bella Luna

Home | Short Stories | The Storyteller | Art | Music | Poetry

Wildwind Lovers Lament
copyright 2008 Ruth Keyes

 

Tormented I am

by the tempest wind tossing,

windbound and wanton

together we  stand,

His touch in my hair

like some galleon at crossing,

bound to the sea and yet turned to the land.

Swirling around me

his voice is a whisper

rising from silence to passionate roar,

lilac and shadow my bed and my raiment,

I'll have no other lover but the wind on the moor.

For though he is wild

and will never be tamed,

yet barefoot against the grasses below,

I know he will meet me and dare to be named,

and thus to the wind will I evermore go.

And hear his voice keening

a lost lovers lament,

from the cliffs on the edge

of  the inconstant sea,

I will yet have no other

than the wind for my lover,

and someday perhaps, he will love only me....

 

Previous Writings archived here...