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Night and Day

The peasant girl and lord.
I was once a peasant girl
clad in gray rough woven skirt
and flour sack blouse;
black hair chipped with straw
from the pallet on which I'd lain.
Every summer day
I picked berries in the lane
and you'd ride by
in your gilded carriage;
wild black and white stallions
flailing their mains;
champing at their bits.
Your blue eyes stared at me
beside parted lace;
two more berries I should reap.
When you had gone that day,
a fearsome knight in snapping cape
thundered to my side
and raised me to his beast;
by him I was kidnapped to your distant keep.
Now I labor each day in your stables;
dressed in disused but softer, more colorful garb.
Each night, a thin and flickering taper in my hands,
I climb the hidden steps to sleep with you.
I have nothing to give you but my breath
and still wetter lips.
And you, you, may not know me
in any way by light of day.
I have not even a trinket
to secret in my bosom that you oft kiss.
But I am content.

Your steeds are mine and I love them for us.
I coo to them and kiss them.
I groom them to shine
and call them Night and Day.

This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

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