A Winter's Tale

I think it should have been the other way round,

beginning on a high - a swirl of laughs,

chance meetings, marriages. The unexplained sound

of music. Pauses for sunny photographs.

 

Plus the kind of magic he would have reserved

to sprinkle last page stardust on those who

stand shaken, but emotionally bestirred,

as one, wondering, young, in a world made new.

 

Till somewhere in Act III the tone would start

to darken, and the poetry become

tortuously thrilling, like a heart

twisted and tempted. The fun

 

stops. Lovers

 

are separated, this time for good.

Storms rip ships apart; upright souls drown.

Misunderstandings unleash murder, and

 

it's cold and selfish in the dangerous wood

in which the exiles huddle.

                                         The curtain comes down

as the mocking villain reassumes the land.

 

 

First published in Writer's Forum #148, February 2014