** Image ID #2047154 Unavailable ** Nocturne In the moonlit woods, where the evening primrose grows on a leafy bank, and the darkling mist lingers in the trees, she sits upon a phantom bench, imprisoned by its bars, and held by the glimpse of a face she knew, but long ago. There in the mist, was that an eye above a cheekbone vague below the spreading branch? A memory, a ghost perhaps, he draws her ever back, as his ephemeral spectre drifts through the arms of what might have been. Though long dead, her restless spirit demands her courtly due and love, at last, requited. Line count: 24 Free verse For Dark Dreamscapes Poetry Contest, Oktoberfest Week 4 Prompt #1 Prompt: As per illustration. |