The Secret at Lavender Meadows

The Secret at Lavender Meadow

The girl would roam those lavender meadows
so softly, cooly, walking 'cause her heart knows
nothing, falling, watching as his heart grows.

The moon set low on a bed of snow.
Lines raked down her cheek so sharp
like the strings pulled taught on a blood-red harp,
he shoved her down and she hit soft ground,
quickly she tossed and harder he fought,
with wild eyes of embers red-hot.

Keeping good time they both danced rhyme
to the lyrics of a snarl and a thin armed boulder,
crushing the bones of his fur-coat shoulder.

As a tear fell away, she regretted to say
to the werewolf who's soul cracked into mortal light
as she leaned in closer, hearts pounded harder,
long-lost love you poor wretched creature,
and he smiled at her with the grin of a reaper.

Harshest promises slice through the night air,
intricate scheming and she now finds him beaming,
his lashes laden with fragile snow clinging
spawning from the lovelss no longer
and hope addresses that she is always stronger.

They laughted so hard, finally pulled the right card
fists on the door of a knock-knock joke
knowing that her fright was only of his cloak
puzzling the pieces, now sweeping the shards
toghether and forever they will roam onwards.