Sweet Prisoner of Time

At night, high in the tower, a gleam,

And I of fitful candle-light,

Shows where she wakes while others dream.



Each day with dreaming is made bright;

She sees him ride to set her free,

Her now-and-always noble knight.



But, white upon the rocks, the sea

Sings night and day another song:

Such foolish dreams come never be.



Years spun endless, days tedious long,

Shall snuff at last her hope in age:

She'll wake to speak another tongue,



Finding in bitterness and rage,

That while she dreamed all sweet and fair,

Time made her tower a prison cage

And strewed white winter in her hair.





Copyright © Bernard Gilhooly - All Rights Reserved