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