Ode to Chatelaine

                         Ode To Chatelaine                                         Deborah S.W.

The lady of the castle exists

like an ironic ghost unable to let go

for she is the one who's being haunted

captured in a dance of long ago.

 

Several vivid places

she can travel to within her mind

uncomfortable, but used to her talent

to mangle, control and manipulate time

For she is drifting through her longings

of the happiness she used to know

like an oblivious, foolish ghost

unable to let go.

 

Comes the calling, comes the shining

of reality once again

She stands, it seems she is ready to move on

but still she is without a friend

She sighs as her thoughts and heart wander

to friendships and passions bliss

and pacing through the castle is The Chatelaine

of nothing more than lonliness.

 

Drowning is the lady

in things she finds important to analyze

Like will one so special be able to to hold on

when revealed is the story deep within her eyes

A few tears come sliding down the softness of her cheeck

for the one who longs to love her

to this- has yet to even have a peek.

 

So she runs down the hallway

tripping all upon the floor

for she's lost control of what is haunting her

the here and now keeps pounding at her door

And the one who dreams of loving you

is at the window with an

Ode To Chatelaine

You stop and gaze upon their eyes

and now, lady,

nothing shall ever be the same.