Century’s lost beneath a frigid sea.
A mystery shrouded from you and me.
One hundred years till the darkest of night.
A body shall be risen once gone from sight.
~
Subjects none, she’s a queen alone.
An island rests till her desire’s grown.
She’ll rise from the mist in fur, feather and scale.
Cloaked of face, she’s lovely beyond the pale.
~
Her quest is simple; to attain her reflection,
caught from a soul’s image of loves perfection.
Her call is silent, her essence shines through.
Once chosen, there’s none you can do.
~
Her attraction’s permanent, like flies on sweets.
And entice she does with her anticipated treats.
From a dream plucked, it’s her prey of late.
In a line they’ll stand with surety of fate.
~
Then only she will choose.
Who’ll be the winner this time to lose.
The others left bereft of heart.
Free for now to long another start.
~
The queen now quenched returns to her bed.
Her emptiness filled, rube’s again shed.
And the rest of us wonder of the tales that be.
Or am I to flounder in a flash of the sea?

~*~
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*In Brigadoon all roads lead to the future.*