The forest banquet

She wandered the forest in the witching hour, a drumbeat in her veins

The tattered dress once of silk and lace hanging in rags on her frame

But this pilgrimage is one to make through the painstaking trek

No-one believes her, but she gives not a care,

They say she imagines things that there’s nobody there

Nodding to themselves and one another about the “silly old woman ” who meets her lover.

She comes to a clearing and begins to dance

Slowly in circles, building up slowly  and losing her years

Till the young girl she stops in mid twirl on a carpet of clover

Behind her a light shines over her shoulder of creamy white skin,

And it comes from within the nearest trees

The table is set with a lamp as she turns,  a long cloth of moss it’s cover

He’s here, and is serving the food, the wine

To the lady in the emerald silk, with the pearls at her neck

Her spinning took her back to the time he was here before

She’s to go back soon but she knows it’s really and truly just fine

For then they will be together for all of the time

The banquet is finished, lights are dim, she sighs

Quietly hugs him goodnight, no words are exchanged

Once again old, dressed in tattered rags she hobbles to her home

A smile on her face and a wave from her hand

She closes the door and gets ready for bed, shabby dress on a chair

Will she tell anyone of her travel tonight?

This time she thinks it’s my secret, they all think I’m mad

But have no idea what they’ve missed by closing their eyes to the light

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