Who lived in the lonely tower? (The Dawntreader)
|*Published in 2009 print issue of The Dawntreader magazine.
The Lonely Tower
Out walking in the woods one day,
I chanced upon a shady glen.
Though far from any road it lay,
A sign was scrawled in shaky pen.
“One room to rent, upstairs” it said.
But though I looked, I saw no trace
Of house or hostel, shack or shed,
But just that silent, empty place.
Then through the leafy boughs, a peek,
A stony tower, old and vast.
Yet though it seemed almost antique,
Its roof still stood, its walls held fast.
I stared in awe at ancient stones
Which some late mighty hand had hewn
And piled high, with aches and moans,
Apart from all the world, immune.
Around the base, I sought to find
An entrance to this mystery.
But though I looked in front, behind,
No way to enter could I see.
Though twice around the base I went,
There was no crack or hint of door.
And looking up at the ascent
I saw no windows to explore.
Then, at the very top, I spied
An opening beneath the roof.
Though naught but bird could get inside,
I glimpsed a face and jagged tooth.
About to call, I gasped instead,
A sight had stopped me in my tracks.
There, many feet above my head,
A golden hair caught in the cracks.
As fast as mighty steeds may race
When called to war or gallant quest,
Much faster was my ragged pace;
My heart was bursting in my chest.
Perhaps my visions filled with doom
Were not, in truth, completely fair,
But I would never rent the room
Where fair Rapunzel combed her hair.