Friday's Whims of the Time Traveler 42.0: February 15th, 2007

King of the Forest
by Belinda Roddie

Gold’s turned to wood, the king’s crown to laurels

He’s reigning the forest, a much grander kingdom than

The fortress that kills blue skies, blue eyes that scan the trees

His scepter is oak, the rings on his fingers

Strong bands of vine, rhinestones found in the dark

That resonate stories of friends that were left in the leaves

The wind in his hair, much better than the wind

From a trumpet blown in Great Halls, his Majesty

Calls for a dance from the sprites in the branches

Then moonlight is simmered in starry fire

He basks in it as his maiden,

Her hair wound with flowers and weeds,

Offers a cup of pure, rich beauty

He drinks, and they sleep

The work you see here has not been edited nor altered since February 15th, 2007.