Bride to Be (part six)

Posted by ractrose on 4 Nov 2019 in Art, Poems

Now ask me, did I love him

Did I set my mind at schemes, did I discover for the trying, how

To the watchtower hill the daughter of a king

Might walk as the risen sun, repulsing sight

My maid and page in train at my command

I lowered myself within the earthen fort

to the level of the camp

I moved aloof to their ladder, climbed

While men behind hands gazed

Until my own look catching theirs, the overbold

Warned I might recall a face

Canst thou judge, archer, that rider below, the insignia

He bears

I see red of madder, yellow from the dyers’ weed

He cupped his eyes obedient to me

Murmured, shy of his peasant’s speech

“Lady, we know the rogue for Alderic

Hold from the felling of him, done right enough

But there…our captain has it so of us…”

At my father’s bidding, yes

How strong the wind blows here!

And with a sleeve I wiped my cheek of tears

Still bent o’er this, cuff of my underblouse, fluttering

The archers crimson-faced, mortified at my distress

So fearful, each, to speak a word, to touch me

Loosed I the map I’d stitched in plain flax, so as to bear the weather

I have no lettering, child, and nor did he

But I had marked the place I meant to ride to

In figures crude, hands linked, himself and me

Bride to Be