#WritcoPoemPrompt120
The wind carried words through the sky that blew thee,
Lying on a velvet swing,
Swinging under a tree,
Whilst waiting for the King,
Who can take away her misery.

Alas! the King has arrive at last,
Atop his horse it gallops so fast,
A maiden afar smiling with glee,
Her Knight of shining armor she could see,
Days of melancholy will soon be far away.

Cold nights there'll be no more,
Tears will be wash ashore,
Weaving poetry from dusk until dawn,
In every corner and in the dewy lawn,
Their love avowed, blessed by gods above.


© Sweet Fantasy