The Knight’s Letter, a fable

Called, nay, cajoled to ponder

And craft a fable, she was flattered

By the kind knight’s small request;

Yet inwardly she cringed,

For she’d never practiced

That particular literary form.

The knight lived in a faraway land.

It was blessed fate that they’d met

At all—discreetly, via letter

Carried miles and months by a serf

Ridden wild-haired and hungry

As hoary wolf he insisted was

Following close behind.

Poor waif was of such meager

Means that in gratitude she sat

Him at her table, and heaped his

Dish three times with hearty stew,

Plates of warm Irish soda bread.

While he ate wordlessly, she

Reread the letter. 

It seemed the knight was a

Most remote admirer—having

Stumbled on her published writings. 

He closed his note which begged

A fable so prettily, by inviting her

Into mutual correspondence…

Difficult as it would be, vast

Distance spilling out between them

Like spools of tapestry floss.

In all her years, the color of widowed

Pewter blight, she’d not known this

New tripping of her heart’s beats…

Nor the flicker-dancing prismatic

Hues that suddenly painted her

Rooms in astonished delight.

The End (or is it the Beginning…)

©Pax & Co., 2018. All rights reserved.



Broken Shadows Song

Distant music draws

Holy veil over night;

Stills its spinning dish—

That barely discerned

Hum before rain;

Strums silvered strings

‘Mid silky-brushed patter—

A haunting balm’d song

Which can’t fully soften

Pain’s sharp-toothed truth

As it saturates souls

Already lost at birth;

And shields like a sieve

Their broken shadows—

Soaked through, stumbling

‘Neath street lamps…

©Pax & Co., 2018. All rights reserved.