She Sleeps in Woodbypushkine©
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
Survivor Poetry Contest
Trigger 42, Form C (Curtal Sonnet)