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Click hereAuthor's Note:
This poem incorporates as much of my original composition as I can remember, but the original ran about sixteen stanzas, was written well over 20 years ago, and went up in smoke about four or five years ago. To make up for the missing stanzas, I have updated the poem, adding a few new ones. Roxanne, BTW, is not her real name.
Memories of Roxanne
To one who would with fairies dance
And wear a magic ring
Would unsuspecting souls entrance
And wed an Elven King
Before we met, my heart was stone
And rife with cuts and scars
Abandoned, shunned, and all alone
Beneath the frigid stars
On silver wings you came to me
Across the desert sky
And said you would my lover be
If only I would fly
You captured me with eyes of jade
Your lips were full and warm
So slowly you undid your braid
And worked on me your charm
You offered me those lips, I took
Them savagely and deep
No shy resistance would I brook
"They're mine" I thought, "to keep!"
To dizzy heights our passion rose
Such was it's rampant power
We ripped and tossed away our clothes
And lived our finest hour
I kissed your ear, I stroked your side
I suckled on your breast
You opened yourself to me, wide
I held you to my chest
And when we joined, the "Unchained" song
Did echo in mine ear
I couldn't feel that we were wrong
Your loss, my only fear
We shared a passion so sublime
With no thought to the cost
I can't describe it with a rhyme,
The needed words are lost
Together, we met every season
(As often as was meet
Without a fabricated reason)
Our pleasure to repeat
But here we are, so many years
Have passed, and dimmed our lust
And now I hear your deepest fears
Have risen from the dust
Discerning what he didn't know
He brought our love to light
So unaware that long ago
He'd won without a fight
You made the choice to go back home
And leave our love behind
For passion nevermore to roam
Nor magic e're to find
But you cannot undo the past
Nor will forgotten be
The time a lover's spell was cast
And you ensorceled me
I'll comment. This poem did what it was trying to do - which is be a ballad, telling a tale, - pretty well.
It would be appropriate to set this to music, since ballad form is really intended for that.
I wish Roxanne were her real name.