She Sleeps in Wood

In early sun, the thorns shone black with rain.
      His horse recoiled, as if a giant snake
            Lay there, dozing lazily past dawn,
Its red eyes slits, so as to ascertain
      For threat or food the serpent should awake.
            The Prince dismounted and, with his sword drawn,

Hacked through the briar to the citadel.
      The thousand sleeping bodies would not wake,
            Not even She when kissed. He, with a yawn,
Lay wíth her. Áll stíll underneath the spell
                        Sleep on.



Survivor Poetry Contest
Trigger 42, Form C (Curtal Sonnet)