Sonnet to Sylvia's Lost Love

Young Sylvia, the earth beneath her soul
And mourning dew all wet between her toes,
She walks beyond the trees and up the knoll
To secret haunts lit by the dawning glow.
There a breeze moves so soft to lift her hair.
There a mist of morn adorns her glist'ning
Gaze, alight with golden rays; eyes aflare.
Yet heart all still, she waits with longing; list'ning
For one soft voice upon the knoll to rise,
Ascending as the breath of fragrant blooms,
For one stayed hand to dry her swollen eyes,
And sooth the ache where lover's spirit looms.
     Here is his hand; it lights upon her cheek
     As wildflowers, sweet balm of love do speak.

R.A. Wittum
August 2010

Ode To a Fairy Wood Beyond the Graveyard

Beyond the graveyard rests a quiet wood
That in the day is still except a stream
Spilling lithely o’er smooth glist’ning pebbles.
Here and there broad footstones mark the path
From daylight to the place where elf-folk play
Lit by soft moonshine ‘neath a fairy oak.
Many a night this sylvan maid joined in
Revelries of dance with nymph and dryad,
Loving the woodland home near as her own.
But youth in time is seized upon by age
And fairy woods where oft’ the maiden strolled
Calls stronger to her own small tow-head sprites.
And sylvan mother treads more slowly now
To honor sleeping souls laid here to rest,
Who walked the fairy trail long years ago;
Mere infants drawn to fay and make-believe.
But stepping ‘neath the leaves time bids farewell;
Twilights filled with child-joys come racing back.
And mother calls to willow o’ th’ wisp,
As little ones step stones to fairyland.

R. A. Wittum
July 2010