TWO hearts from Days of Old
I recently was invited to join a Romantic poetry (& other writings) group on the web.  It was rather intriguing to realize that little of my recent writing has taken a "romantic" bent especially in poetry.  So now I'm working on that. ~smile~  Here are three for your consideration.



by Carol Abbott July 2003

Oh, My Lady is riding home.
The sun is sending forth it's last strong rays.
Soon the dusk will fade to the dark.
Ere My Lady comes home to stay.

Lucinde Nicolan Morlet is my beloved's name.
It is she who rules within my heart.
Without her here, there is no joy,
'though miles alone fail to keep us apart.

Luci's smile is sweet and kind.
Her eyes as blue as a fine spring sky.
The black of her hair deep as a raven's wings
tumbles in ringlets that sometimes fall in her eyes.

When she laughs, it's like music of fine crystal bells.
It makes me happy just to listen to her.
Ringing true music in peal after peal.
I reach for her hand and instead touch her heart.

Oh, My Lady is coming home.
Anxious am I to draw her close unto me.
Soon the twilight will fade into the night.
And contentment of passion our lot most surely will be.


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by Carol Abbott July 2003

Oh, My Lord is waiting at home.
Seems I've been ever so long away.
Soon dusk will fade, and darkness envelop me.
Swiftly, onward my steed, race the end of the day.

The sun is sending forth it's last bright beams, o'er the hills
in the distance turned near black in the dim.
There is lark song and pigeon coo that
harken to my ear. All the world is settling in
for the resting of night. And I long to be at home with him.

James Nicolas Morlet is my dear lover's name.
It is he whose presence always calls to my need.
When I'm gone from his side, there is only the joy,
of knowing that soon we'll be freed from
the prisons of our shared exile.

To cheer myself now, as I rush to his side, I ponder
what draws me to him. Of all that will forever abide,
I think of Jamie's bold laugh which always buoys up my heart.
His dark eyes which can sparkle with glee.
But then in an instant, as he touches my hair
And wraps the black ringlets with such tender care
'round his fingers and leans down toward me,
I breath in his scent of fresh heather and sweat
and touch his fair cheek with the back of my hand
and I know he loves me, as fierce as I love him.

My heart quickens inside of me with the thought
of reunion to come. It's not so far now, in the distance
I see the towers of home, beckoning me. Hurry!
Hurry, my black charger!  I need to be in his arms.
Very soon the twilight will fade into deep night.
Look! He is there on the wall with his hand in the air. Although
still way afar, I know  his eyes dance, sense the curve of his
lips and know that 'fore long I will be by his side.
Life is good and so right on this coming home night.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~



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by Carol Abbott July 2003

Lovely maid, most beautiful of the court,
Laughed with delight at the antics of the
Jester who pulled a tragic face to hide the
Secret that He loved the fair AnnaBella.

A smile, so bright, he did efface
His heart near broke with nair a trace
as her beauty and gentle grace
Sunk deeply into his soul.

How could she know the effect she had
over such a tragic/comic lad?
For gentlewoman that she was, yet
not experienced of deep, true love.

Worship she could and did expect to see from
eyes of men and lesser beings.
''Twas not she was cruel, but careless, you see.
A pampered life can a prison be.

And so, on and on the days went by
with love unspoken until Jester died
of unrequited love as true as any the
Princess AnnaBella herself ever knew.




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