this one was written to order, hope yer all likes it
The saga of Iellwen and the Tempest.
By Rockhead Howling Wolf.
The sun came up, the dawn of day,
Iellwen rose to make her way,
From hearth and home to place afar,
A journey long and tortuous.
Her quest to reach that place of calm,
To lie within her lover’s arm,
And hear his heartbeat slow and slow,
tranquillity achieved.
The road was long, the weather foul,
She wrapped in azure cloak and cowl,
Whilst rain clouds chased her all the way,
From break of dawn to close of day,
Down to that tempestuous sea.
The Captain of the ship he waited,
Turgid stance and breath abated,
He called to her to make great haste,
No time to lose or wind to waste.
She leapt across from land to sea,
Her fate now all but sealed.
They made their way past harbour wall,
Out to stormy sea, the squall,
the wind and waves both gaining stature,
Iellwen’s eyes in all but rapture,
The Tempest now approaching.
The Captain’s strategy appeared,
to race the wind and waves he feared,
he threw up all the sail he had,
the old , the new, the good , the bad,
in hope of his escape.
Iellwen watched the weather chase,
the Tempest on their heels kept pace,
the cyclone formed and it bore down.
The sailors fearing they would drown,
grabbed anything they thought would float,
and left the now storm damaged boat,
and Iellwen to her fate.
The ship now held in Tempest’s grip,
Iellwen cried and bit her lip,
It’s form, it’s power spun her round,
No sight of land, or earth, or ground,
She lay upon the spinning deck,
The tempest slowed, caressed her neck,
Her heart, her head, her very soul,
Almost her very being it stole,
Then gently laid her on a beach,
And drifted far from sight.
Iellwen staggered to her feet,
Her body heaving, warm, replete.
She cried out to the gods above,
Aching with joy, with hope, with love,
And now she waits without thought or care,
For Tempest to return to her.
