A REST FOR THEE WEARY
She stood on the edge of reality
At the verge of a tumble into dreams
As the wind whipped at her sullen face
And the bright sun beams
Her steed nudged a hard muscled thigh
To regain the attention that waned
She pat sweet nuzzle and smiled rare smile
One untouched by that insaned
She lead fair steed toward lakeside
Down vagrant’s trodden path
To graze beside still waters
While she chanced a bath
She loosed her armor carefully
And aired it over a pine
And strode naked into the coolness
Not a warrior for short time
She loosed her hair of raven
From knotted leather thing
And sensing no close danger
She bathed on
She plunged her tender shoulders
Rinsed battle-soiled skin
Scrubbed at palms once bloodied
Let numbness in
She slid a callused
Across a tell-tale scar
A mark of blood-lust battle
To which she journey’s far
A bruised, strained body once again
A freshness to lone soul
She strode t’ward water’s quiet bank
To lay on grassy knoll
Sun-dried body cleansed anew
As she rose from soft green ground
And once more donned her armor
Lest by enemy found
Now once more unruly warrior
She heaved a saddened sigh,
Regained her weapons and steed
Bid her peace goodbye
Both resumed their journey
Down track beaten bare;
A steed of grace and proudness,
And warrior, with raven hair
Bardic
January, 1998
