“I dreamed you were a poem,
I say, a poem I wanted to show someone…”
While serving my queen, I hardly noticed her.
I was lost in dreams of Arthur. She came
to wake me. In bed, she told me, surrender
your “abject servitude” to regain
your heart. The smoldering orange fire of dawn
illuminated her words. Under my cover
I reached for my vision. It was gone.
With the familiarity of a lover,
she removed my blanket. I saw the light
and her eyes as one fluid brightness.
I knew that her radiant truth was right.
My sublime dream-queen fled with the darkness.
The sun rose. I was in denial.
But she showed me the day and made me smile.
Follow Marjorie Jensen on Twitter @MetaphorJunkie.