A nearly commonplace Tale

A nearly commonplace Tale
 
 
 
There was a prince - there was a maid
once upon a time.
Their love they both entrustingly laid
into a small bell’s chime.
 
They kissed beneath a hazel tree
in the summer sun.
To keep their faith - both promised free,
the maid and the king’s son.
 
He lived in a palace of marble and gold
high on mountain’s peak.
When he on his way to her was withheld
the bell began to speak.
 
He once had to leave for a mighty fight
- stately was his mare -.
During the feud and through the night
he thought of his maiden fair.
 
When captured, he was put to chain.
The bell ceased to sing.
Away he was dragged. She cried with pain
but back no tears could him bring.
 
His dungeon was deep, his cell was damp,
water ran down the wall.
There was no window, was no lamp,
pitch dark in his prison was all.
 
Sometimes a fire bell was rung
high from tower’s roof.
The chiming ran the walls along
to put the prince to proof.
 
A rosy gleam of remembrance and hope
over the dark was laid.
With new silence he then could cope,
whenever he thought of the maid.
 
Outside the world went on as ever.
Years were passing the land.
The maid didn’t mourn nor wait - but never
accepted another man’s hand.
 
 
 
© I. Beddies


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