It was his tongue

Of silken gossamer breath

That led her to believe

That it was nothing but a trice

To give up all that was

Hers to give up

All that she would save for her wedding night

Now gone

Relinquished in the blink of an eye

He the pied piper

Tripped and slipped away a merry dance

She left alone

Cold and naked

In her crumpled bed

Her tears smeared and wrapped in cotton

Cupboard bare love

Where truth had turned to lies

And all that had promised to be unbridled bliss

Was no more than a liars kiss

 

What would she to do now

But take away the beating in her chest

To drown herself in the sorrow

Of what might have been

Down by lakey mere

She would be found

A washed up doll

With that was life now gone from her breast

Her heart torn in two

 

But fate is fate will be

More than a maiden’s broken promise

And liars word

For the coughing spluttering heaving water

Was not to be her final resting place

As an arm as strong and big as oaken branch

Did lift her from her icy grave

Chastised and chastened by that forgiving stare

Whose love knew no bounds

No questions were asked by he

The woodcutter’s son

A year hence on that their wedding night

As she felt his steely arms around her waist

 

She knew she did not need to ask or weep

For he the robbers tongue

Who only months before had met his end

Through cracked and splintered ice

In coal black raven night at lakey mere

Where nobody heard or saw

His cries of reminisce and remorse

No more would be heard of his liars tongue

No more to be a maidens curse