Lest it may never be told

My lass is a dame now, not in mere words is her maturity spent

The twinning vines to her window would merit much an allegory,

But such stories may be the works of bees and birds, for my human pen writes

What humane it has seen, and what lack of it and such glory.

The last of last sacred dale was she, striving furlongs in impromptu virtuosity,

She would lay down her charms, a tree on a road, ford in a river,

You an admiring traveler shall instantly become,

Even if travel far exceeds what actions you have dreamt in your life

You will eagerly walk by her, such prowess she holds in her stride.

Leaping heart full of joy, plotting dreams in darkness, ready to conquer

I lurked like a spider up on my web, much like it an ardent loner.

Watching, grazing the piles of pleasure that in heaps she needlessly arranged

Slowly tangling her dangling fingers, inviting her to an unsolicited dance.

I spun and built around and about her a frivolous chimera, strained with lust

With aide being an expertise, my reading mind, me playing along

She was trapped all along, her heart a mere subject of my whims.

Her voice soothed the barren desolation; conversations were sparks of life…

And there waiting for the contraption to shut, I awaited a brief revelation.

Playful minds in their own gaiety complexities create, seldom abstaining

From what not should have been done, what more to come of it.

Her lingering motion in absence, reminding, creating more webs spinning,

Frolicking about her, dreams of pleasure, my mind was now at its zenith of power.

With such prowess, and more eloquence, opening fast doors, breaking barriers,

Decoding ciphers of her torment, her joy and other trivial matters.

I take interest in several of them; some are shrugged at, barely meaningful.

Deceitful as ever, more so to ponder, I ask her some enticing questions.

Reading devices, painting picture, of a man past now, there embracing

An unfold of mystery, how could she have sought, what now lies in somebody else’s embrace.

Of what meaning to her now, are his conquests, and that woman’s deception?

Commotion, why in her mind now is so loud, when he has surpassed all her actions.

With locked lips, passion is contained, fermented and passed from body to bodies,

The giver, receiver, opener, cipher all lay tangled, forgotten meaningless.

Swift motions were guiding emotion, siphoned to an eternal promise

Such you must seek seeing her, such you must get at her court

Of what gift you can ask a monarch, if he asks you to match his status in bargain.

Lattices, the determinant of formation lay open now, the maze is solved,

Eyes dazed in mystery now, haze of such occurrence surmounting,

Waiting the years that pass through me, unnoticed, unhindered, begging a cater

We meet now, dark skies, cloud observant hither and thither.

Look a look again in her eyes, see what was seen before, still amazes to find

Through this grind of eternally persisting, no words can speak any more

Lay between us, tension of spent years, when she did not wonder, I did not convey…

Lay between us, yesteryears, beautiful feelings gone astray.

Between her eyes, I decide to look at, I see a red sun rising

Spent desires, now ushers, somebody else’s property warning.

My lass is a dame now, no longer gleeful, yet fleeting.