Musings of a Nascent Poet

by Stephanie Barr

  Just run away in fright.

  He'd search through humid mountain caves

  And hear her scream in fear,

  And, yet, she'd vanish like a mist

  Whenever he would near.

  He'd search in desperation,

  Trying not to hear her screams . . .

  Then wake in perspiration—

  His journey into dreams.

  He was the Prince of Visions—

  Dreams should never come to him!

  He'd comfort, harry sleeping souls

  At every wish or whim.

  He never could have visions;

  He'd tried to dream before.

  A century of dreamlessness

  Then, in one night, a score,

  And each with her in agony

  Or each with her disdain.

  She'd die or hate his loving her

  And he would wake in pain.

  "Larah, love, you've hurt me so;

  Your sleep is safe from me.

  Have I caused torment, pain like this?

  O dreams! Dreams, let me be!"

  Morning came and he woke late,

  Face wet and mouth like sand.

  Then, with a sudden fear in mind,

  Took crystal sphere in hand.

  The sphere was purest sorcery—

  Saw future and saw past,

  The tool to call illusions that

  So often he had cast.

  He gazed into the crystal depths

  And called for Larah's face.

  Reflected off the glassy screen,

  An elf-maid took her place.

  Could he have lost his magic, too,

  When, by her, he'd been caught?

  When he'd been captured by the dream,

  The dream that he had wrought?

  But she had made it hers as well

  For she had been the one

  Who taunted him beyond his strength

  And made the dream undone.

  In grief, he gazed into the orb,

  The elf gazed in return,

  And something in that azure gaze

  Made all within him burn.

  Head thrown back, he laughed and laughed

  To fill the marble hall;

  'Twas not an elven maid he saw

  But his partner at the ball.

  With river clay, her skin was white;

  She wore a sky-blue haze.

  She would have seemed an elven girl

  If he'd not seen her gaze.

  "Clever girl! You hurry to the

  Castle gate at last,

  But I must make your trip worthwhile.

  Beware! The die is cast."

  In every room, on every stair,

  At every turn, a trick:

  A wall looked like a mirror

  And air, a wall of brick.

  The visions changed as time went on

  For all's not as it would seem.

  "I'll see if she has wits to pass,

  To beat my secret schemes."

  Then, through each trick and riddled plot

  She slowly made her way.

  With great missteps, her wits grew sharp

  And she too hard to sway.

  At last, she made her way inside

  The room which held the ring,

  "The prize," she told herself,

  "I love much more than anything."

  She looked upon the pedestal

  Where oft, the ring had ruled,

  Bereft now of its sovereign—

  Her prize—the magic tool.

  Then, from the shadows from the light

  He stepped, her enemy!

  The ring gleamed golden from his palm.

  "Do you seek what you see?

  Do you seek only petty toys

  Or are you seeking more?

  Do you long for something else

  You've never known before?

  You've never known true love before;

  You've never known a man;

  You've never known the magic

  Strong as trinkets in my hand,

  That goes beyond, goes deeper,

  Will last a million years,

  That strengthens sorrow, heightens joy,

  And vanquishes your fears.

  Do you know what I ask you?

  Can you read it in my eyes?"

  She turned to look away from him:

  "I wish to have my prize!

  I don't care what you ask me—

  I only want the ring.

  I have but dreams to take the jewel,

  Not what you're offering.

  I do not want another swain,

  Too many now to name.

  All have claimed to earn my heart

  And all turned out the same.

  I thought that you were different,

  That you'd not do my will.

  I want a foe, an enemy;

  Of love, I've had my fill."

  "Of love do you know nothing!

  Just greed and lust and lies!

  Why just respect an enemy?

  Why wear this fool disguise?

  True love is the challenge—

  Do you have strength to face?

  Adventure like you've never known

  Is found in love's embrace.

  Did I not bring adventure

  When no other heard your call?

  I aided, hindered as you wished

  To lead you to my hall!

  Your servant I'm no longer

  'Til you love me just as well.

  Those who live to love alone,

  Their lives are sheerest hell.

  Love me, need me, ask my aid,

  For else, I near the grave.

  If you will only do my will,

  Then I shall be your slave!"

  "I shall never do your will,

  For you I but despise,

  A man just like those other fools;

  I'd thought you strong and wise.

  You know you are defeated

  So you beg me to concede.

  Strength and cunning both have failed

  So, now, in turn, you plead.

  Do you have no self-respect?

  No pride? No inner strength?

  Are you so frightened of defeat

  You'd go to any length?

  I only wished adversity,

  In that, I am betrayed

  And all because my mighty foe

  Of losing is afraid."

  The ring flew to her finger.

  "Hear how I do not lie,

  Hear how I've loved you all along.

  For you, I'd gladly die."

  "You speak the truth! Or is this

  Just another clever dream?

  I do not want you ever for

  With me, all's as it seems."

  "Are you certain, Larah dear?

  One chance is all I give.

  Love me and you'll be my queen

  And have your chance to live.

  Do eyes of green not tempt you,

  Not look into your soul?

  Why can't you learn to compromise?

  Can we not share control?"

  She glared at him in fury—

  Could he look into her heart?

  She pushed away her aching need

  And tore his dreams apart.

  "You fool! You fool! I can't believe

  You dream but cannot see

  That I detest those very eyes

  And all you claim to be!

  But I can turn away from you

  And you can't tell me 'No!'

  You have no power over me

  And I am free to go."

  The walls, they seemed to shatter

  And his eyes closed in dismay

  That tore her fiery heart apart

  And made her long to stay,

  Made her wish to take those words

  And drown them in her tears,

  To revel in love's magic

  T
hat lasts a "million years" . . .

  She had no chance to speak again;

  A flash and she was home,

  But home is worse than Satan's lair

  When empty and alone.

  At once, she longed to run right back,

  Heart bleeding like a sieve,

  But heard again the tortured voice:

  "One chance is all I give."

  "I do not need him anyway;

  The ring, that was my goal.

  My fancy is the passing kind

  And I've another role."

  With ring, she heard her subjects think

  Who claimed their loyalty,

  Surprised, dismayed, at times amused

  By their duplicity.

  But, watching servants' petty thoughts

  Grew older every day

  As did the "thoughts" of all her beaus

  Who had no thoughts to say.

  More and more, her mind would roam

  Past castle walls and trees,

  Would dance among the forest oaks

  And skim along the breeze

  And fly on toward a palace

  She'd seen not long before,

  Would whisper through his magic maze

  And pass the throne room door.

  There it hovered o'er the king

  Who mused upon the throne,

  Whose face was pale as fall's first frost

  And gaunt upon his bones.

  His wondrous eyes were sunken

  And glittered not so bright,

  Yet wet and so unhappy.

  His lips were thin and white . . .

  She'd shake her head in anger,

  "Away, you plaguey dreams!

  He does not mean a thing to me!

  All is as it would seem!"

  But nightly visions can't be quelled

  As can the dreams of days,

  And, every night, his face was seen

  In many different ways.

  He gazed from out a glass of wine,

  Was seen within a mirror,

  And every time his face was pale . . .

  His eyes would shine with tears.

  She'd gaze at him in agony

  Then turn to run in grief,

  But run, instead, to kiss his brow,

  To give her king relief.

  She strived, but always vainly

  For he stayed just out of reach,

  Taunting with a nearness

  That she had no way to breach.

  She'd waken then, in torment,

  And scream at him in hate,

  "Why send these dreams to haunt me

  When I know that it's too late?"

  Her eyes would close in fury

  Then love would make them weep,

  For him she'd scorned so viciously,

  For him who stalked her sleep.

  She knew, too late, the ring was not

  The goal for which she dreamed,

  And, once again, the king was right—

  All's not as it would seem.

  His vibrant eyes had moved her feet,

  Had forced her mind to think,

  Had helped her find her womanhood

  And brought her to the brink.

  "King Jared, how was I to know

  Who'd thought to know so well?

  I, who'd never known the world,

  Just tales that they would tell.

  Yet, how can you forgive me for

  The awful words I spoke?

  How your soul I trampled on

  And how your heart I broke!

  Oh, pity me, oh, curse my soul

  For I have killed my heart

  And cursed the love I hold so dear,

  And torn that love apart!"

  He woke again in anguish

  As he had so many times:

  The anguish of her lovely face

  Replayed inside his mind,

  The anguish of those ruby lips

  That curved into a frown,

  The anguish from that azure gaze

  That cast King Jared down.

  Those dreams, his dreams, would haunt him

  As he'd haunted dreams before,

  And now they but reminded

  He would see her nevermore.

  His nights were all tormented;

  By the day, his heart was slain.

  That day of greatest agony,

  Relived again . . . again.

  The princess who had spurned him

  Who had spit upon his glove

  And he felt he couldn't blame her,

  So unworthy of her love,

  So unworthy to be sharing

  Any portion of her life,

  Too unworthy yet to touch her

  Let alone make her his wife.

  But she had seen right through him,

  Seen the demon who was he,

  The demon dreaming of the maid,

  Of what he thought could be.

  He dared not gaze into his ball—

  Temptation, oh so great,

  To see her in the crystal sphere

  Yet know it was too late.

  But, though he turned his arts away,

  The dreams would come instead

  And Larah's image, then, would dance

  In poor King Jared's head.

  Once he'd made a vision

  Of the woman in his dreams.

  It stood before him, waiting,

  Like a proud but passioned queen.

  "Perhaps," he said in fevered hope,

  "She'll cure me of my need,

  Perhaps replace the girl I knew

  With one of magic's seed."

  She smiled and reached to hold him

  And he rushed to feel her kiss,

  But found he kissed but vapor

  So the image he dismissed.

  His nights, such bitter torment!

  His days, such lonely pain!

  Ye Gods, to love a woman

  Whose love one can't gain!

  Food could not entice him.

  He grew thinner every day.

  Laughter could not find him;

  He'd no reason to be gay.

  All his dreams forsaken,

  Painful dreams he'd not forget,

  That made him wake up screaming,

  Body cold, yet steaming wet.

  And yet, he could not ask her back;

  She told him how she felt.

  He loved her much too dearly

  Not to play the hand she'd dealt.

  Then, one day, he woke in torment,

  Not of anguish, not of tears

  But of total bitter horror,

  Total terror, total fear.

  He saw her standing near him

  Arms inviting as she smiled

  And he ran toward her in rapture

  With his mane back, long and wild.

  As he touched her hand, it vanished

  And her voice called to his heart,

  "I am stolen, stolen from you

  Always doomed to stay apart!"

  And he flew in magic wonder

  Flew to her who'd torn his dream,

  And he wondered, now, what happened—

  All is never as it seems.

  Had it not been for that courtier,

  She might not have found her soul,

  Might not have heard it calling,

  Tearing down her glass control.

  This suitor's eyes were emerald,

  But they turned her heart so cold

  They were not half so verdant,

  Nor so glowing, wise, or bold.

  She knew, then, none could suit her

  For her heart was not her own,

  And she knew she must rewin him

  Or live her life alone.

  All was black without him

  And she had been so blind

  By trampling down her own soft heart

  With pride that ruled the mind.

  "Sinner! Sinner! You
did worse;

  You trampled his and more.

  Why do you think you're worthy

  E'en to kneel before his door?"

  But she must try to win him,

  Help alleviate his pain,

  And left, the ring behind her;

  She'd ne'er need that toy again.

  She prayed, then, to a thousand Gods

  To beg them aid her plea,

  To give her, now, just one more chance

  And she would make him see . . .

  A hand reached out and grabbed her,

  Smelled so noxious she went weak,

  Then froze in darkest terror

  As she heard that rough voice speak.

  "Quite well, just what I wanted,

  An untouched of noble birth,

  A mortal for my plaything

  In my playground 'neath the earth."

  A flash and she lay in a cave

  Deep underneath the ground,

  And saw with horror who it was

  Who made that deadly sound.

  The Goblin King was known for this,

  For taking virgin maids,

  Who lived a ghastly month or two

  Until the next king's raid.

  His hand reached out to touch her,

  As she strained to hold her scream,

  Then saw a sight so wondrous

  That she knew it was a dream.

  King Jared, wild hair flowing

  And his green eyes filled with hate,

  Was standing tall before her

  In his rich blue robes of state.

  "Leave her, Ren, she shan't be touched

  By hands as foul as yours."

  "She left you, Jared. You've no right

  To stay my hunger's course.

  She spurned you. Can you love her?

  Let alone; she has no worth.

  Leave this mortal to my care

  Or lose your life on earth."

  She saw her king was weakened

  By his many days of fast.

  She couldn't let him die for her

  When she had spurned him last:

  "No, Jared, do not die for me.

  Go free. The price is due.

  I think this is my just reward

  For what I did to you."

  He swore, instead, attacking Ren,

  Who wore his soldier's dress,

  In robes not made for fighting

  And a body strained by stress.

  But, still, he held his own and fought

  With desperation's strength.

  To save the one he'd loved so long

  He'd go to any length.

  In fact, he knocked Ren's sword away

  But Ren was more than sly,

  Distracting him with Larah's pain,

  Then let the last blow fly.

  King Jared lay there, senseless

  And she flew to him in fear,

  Then looked again at mighty Ren

  With fury mixed with tears.

  "You'd better let us go, you wretch,

  For, now, it's me you face."

  And there was something in her voice

  That pressed him back a pace,

  A power in that sapphire gaze

  That froze the goblin's heart;

  He saw some sorcery in their depths

  And let the two depart.

  Larah dragged her lover

  To the sunshine, to the sky,

  And looked for any signal,

  Any sign he did not die.

  But Jared's face was woeful pale;

  His breathing was unfelt.

  There seemed to be no life at all

  In the body where she knelt.

  "I'm sorry, dear, so sorry.

  I have killed you. I am dead.

  I want so much to love you."

  And her tears fell to his head.

  "I'd do whate'er you asked me,

  For I love you, that I do.

  I want to spend a thousand years

  With naught but loving you."

  Then, Jared's eyes, they flickered

  Then grew wide in gleaming green

  And she heard his fearful whisper,