The Tryst of True Thomas

Beguiling Beauty,
Whose fingers
caress the neck
As razored-silk.
Pull tightly,
carve my flesh
with haunting embrace.
Breathless longing,
Your lips to mine,
keep planted til
I gasp no more.
Sweetest kiss
the deadliest of all.
A consumated farewell.
Glamour glows Green,
Funereal betrothal,
Night has become as Day,
Seven-year tryst,
Seven more to come,
Mirth, dance, merriment,
Lit by the Midnight Sun.
My Lady’s Name, I daren’t divulge,
Tis a Siren call down the path.
As the Harlot greets every man
Death, What She has, She holds…
Flags, Flax & Fodder,

Ulric “Gestumblindi” Goding
Níwe Dæg – Níwe Léoht – Níwe Hopan
La Belle Dame sans Merci

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