Venus in the Vale

Goodbye, my love, the day has turned and shelter I must find,
For frost besets the ground below thy feet of sculptured stone,
I would stay for a time with thee, but night can be unkind,
And frigid vigil solitude doth chill me to the bone.

I spied thee first at break of dawn, mistook thy form for clay,
Unmoving in the early light beside my chosen trail,
As I approached, the light of morning struck thee with its ray,
Thine eyes sent light to every corner of the darkened vale.

I stood before thee, studied well the cast of features brought
To life in finest marble soft and white as virgin skin,
Thy master surely paid with tears when full your form was wrought.
To leave thee solitary in that glade was surely sin.

My eyes traversed the length of thee, my Venus in the Vale.
My stricken heart leapt to my throat, permitted not a word.
Here age would never take thee and thy beauty would prevail,
Here deep within the forest in this vale of the absurd.

I sat me on a tufted knoll across the vale from thee
While travellers passed by and noted not thy resting place.
The brilliant light that issued forth from eyes that blinded me,
Passed through them, cast no shadow, they continued on apace.

I turned around and saw my shadow clear upon the ground,
Cast sharply there upon the grass by light from marble eyes.
I wondered at the marvel of the magic there unbound,
Resumed my silent vigil by your silent marble guise.

I heard, then, deep within the glade, a sigh from statued lips
A plaintive sound of solitude that robbed my heart of hope
I raised my arm to thee and felt upon my fingertips,
Faint heat of life from deep within thy stony envelope.

I knew then that thou lived within a second skin of slate
To guard thee safe from harm until thou deemed it safe to stir.
A vault to hide a treasure from those who may desecrate
The beauty that was hid within from sight of saboteur.

I thought to find a chink in stone and free thee from within,
To liberate the light within your soul would be sublime,
But lessons learned in childhood taught me not to free the chick,
That dies if force removes it from the egg before its time.

Since then I’ve kept thee company, in this small wooded glade.
No further sound has come from thee to lay a claim to life.
But light and warmth, they flow from thee, they do not fail or fade.
And so I pass the day with thee, in words and piping fife.

A cheerful tune and warming words to succor thee in shell,
To incubate thee in thy egg and warm thy tender soul,
The world is not so always harsh, though it may seem as hell
To one so young and gentle in this quiet forest bowl.

Just as the orphaned faun lies still on sensing men at hand,
And trusts its tawny skin to serve as camouflage and friend,
So thou lies quietly in shell and all but breath is banned,
Not knowing if the hand of man holds gruel or grisly end.

Today is not thy time to stir, mayhap I know not how
To birth thee from thy shell into the world of living men.
Mayhap as well, you wait for one to whom you’ve made a vow,
That urges silence on thee in this quiet forest den.

No matter, day has passed to dusk and cold the forest grows.
I must traverse much darkened path before the moon will wake.
The way from here to destiny is filled with bitter blows,
From wind and rain, from fate and chance, and weaker men may break.

But strong am I, far stronger than the wilderness ahead,
And master it I will, for magic comes in many forms
Thy beauty’s one, my will’s another, holds me in good stead,
Secures me from the arms of men and fateful fickle storms.

I leave thee with my gratitude for sharing warmth and light
That kindled embers deep within my disillusioned heart.
And though I part without a word from thee, my statued sprite,
I leave thee with my words and fife, well pleased I played a part.

I ask thee, Venus in the Vale, thou beauty in thy shell,
If memory survives the shatter of thy womb-like urn,
And thou recalls a simple tune, or words that warmed thee well,
Remember fondly he who passed this way and paused to yearn.