Another Tale
By Terra Wolfe
When she is the one true princess
Who aches all day after sleeping on a pea,
no matter how many mattresses.
When she, all fragile, feels every feather in her pillow
as though it were plucked from her own skin.
For this lady,
there are abundant princes.
They ride noble chargers
in search of only her heart,
which they hunt as though it were a quail.
Oh, to be the quest of such men,
such tall and shining promise.
It is her due
To be their prize.
It is the just reward of beauty
to be sought
to be conquered
to quiver gracefully
at the approaching sound
of their hooves.
2
He arrives
bathed in sunlight
The largest man
who ever knew a saddle.
Through the shadowed forest
The sun
shines
continuously
on his face.
She
knows
This is the moment
adding one more daisy
to her armful of flowers
she turns.
He
smiles.
An obvious princess and waiting for him.
Wooing
takes the expected turns,
until, with tearful eyes they part.
He rides away
on to another tale.
The princess
returns to her wildflowers
only a little bit
smaller.
He arrives.
3.
How do they get through the gates?
I thought I sealed them.
I need
more barbs along the fence,
more crocodiles
in my moat.
How can he glow like that
after fighting through the thorns?
I am scarred still,
from chain mail.
But beauty has grown back
over the torn tissue
It grows back,
no matter what they do.
It covers me
Like moss.
For I am a true princess.
See how gently he approaches
a little blood on his sleeve,
a tear brushed
from his cheek.
The hunter
knows his prey.
What will be left of me?
(I was taught to love)
When he rides away?
(He was taught to conquer.)
Copyright 2006, Terra Wolfe