Since I'm being an ass today, I'll post my longest poem.
The Nights of the Lost Song
A story once was told to me
many a year ago.
It tells of love and joyfulness,
and agony and woe.
In a place, that few now know,
there could be heard a song
that filled the air on November nights,
when they turned cold and long.
They called it the Nights of the lost song
for no one knew who sang.
And on one of these November Nights,
a tragic story began.
None had been able to trace the song
to the place, from which it came,
for few was able to distinguish it
from the cold wind and the rain.
Then once a teen-aged boy was seen,
for whom no one really cared,
standing on the edge of the woods,
into the dark he stared.
For there, within, he heard a song,
a mournful woman's voice.
and his clear-green eyes with fire were filled
as he made his final choice.
As he strolled, then, into the woods,
to the song he was ever drawn,
and finally he reached a meadow therein,
in the coldness before the dawn.
And there he saw, on a little height,
amidst a globe of light,
A whiteglad girl, standing there,
singing into the night.
And when he approached her, cautiously
and finally saw her face,
in his eyes one could see the reflection of her,
he had never seen such grace.
Her voice was keen like falcon-cries,
yet wonderful and fair,
and dark-brown were her sparkling eyes
and so her silky hair.
But the girl soon felt his eyes upon her,
and her song stopped there and then.
For what she felt when she saw this boy
she would never feel again.
Nor had she felt it before, for she,
she had lived her life alone,
And within her the days before they met
an empty space had grown.
Then down from the height she slowly came,
her eyes fixed upon his,
and under the moon and the dark, sparkling sky,
she gave him a tender kiss.
And at this moment, from the open sky
a snow-crystal did fall.
On the confluence of their lips, it landed
and held the boy enthralled.
Then he look at her, and saw her heart,
and took her by the hand,
and together they walked till the break of dawn,
in this silent moonlit land.
As morning came he ask her to
join him to his home,
"Yes," she said, "of course I will".
Now she feared to live alone.
And then they walked through field and wood,
at his home they`d soon arrive,
but the place she'd left, once her home
she would never again see alive.
And so they lingered on in peace,
and the girl would sing her song.
And on the land surrounding them.
All stains seemed to have gone
And their love would keep on growing ever
as winter turned to spring,
and the land was getting ever fairer
as long as she did sing.
As summer came, the boy asked her:
"Will you be my wife
to let me love you, and love me back,
and to share my joyful life?"
The girl was thrilled beyond compare,
she could not ask for more.
"Yes", she said", "I love you now
and will forevermore".
Then they married and lived in bliss
as months still slowly passed,
Days turned cold, and seasons fell,
but their love, at least, did last
Then one day, when a year was old,
she was struck by a disease,
and with the failing light outside,
did her strength to live decrease
On that day, as snow first came,
seven years had gone,
A total silence lay on the land
for no one heard her song.
No animal was seen that day,
no bird upon the sky,
A strange sensation filled the air,
for an angel was to die.
Late that Night, when he came to her,
as she lay there on the bed,
Deep within the boy now knew,
his love would soon be dead.
And mournfulness overthrew his mind
as he touched her pale, white skin
"I leave my soul to rest in you,
and to forever remain therein."
His feet were trembling, as again he spoke,
"please, look into my eyes.
Beyond time I am bound to you,
by these countless unswerving ties."
Her silvery eyes glazed back at him,
as a smile grew on her face.
Living in her dream she died,
never to be replaced.
Gods did cry and stars grew dim,
as he saw her lose her life
The tears on his cheek did never dry.
He had lost his beloved wife.
And the boy took off, into the woods,
to live alone and weep,
and upon the sky, he sought for her,
and never went to sleep.
And every year, as October fades,
and November makes all dark,
you can see her again, upon the sky
as a small, but shining spark.
And deep in the woods, where first they met
you still may hear a song.
A man is singing of pain and grief
and of a love that is long gone.
Rasmus Strøm Evensen©
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