The Entwives

Long ages before
your foundation stones
had learned to groan
beneath the weight
of your words and your

Before the sadness
of what we have seen,
Before the bright green moss
grew once more after
long, lonely winter’s sleep;

And the eagles’ haunting cry was
new across a flame-tipped
sundown sky;

When as yet no diadem
nor sparkling gem was worn,
Nor oath of fealty sworn
And no sword brandished high
had pierced the air or flesh from bone

--since then we walk alone.

And if by grace of One
our wives you see,
pray remember us.

Take pity,
Take pity.

- © 2004 Sharon L. Shannon