Lady of the Silver Heart


The moon was so bright, almost iridescent in its ascent.  Everything was brushed with silver, the light filtering down to sprinkle leaf tips and maketh the grains of sand dance.  The water was irresistable, its smooth surface lit by a single silver arm, the rest serene and calm.  If it was cold, I dost not remember.  The sights were too beautiful to behold that Father Frost could hast taken mine fingers and I wouldst not have noticed.  Not one animal stirred, nary any creatures of the night dared disrupt this exquisite peace.  Even the stars durst not try to contend with the brilliance of the night’s sun, their acquiescence a dimming of their floundering twinkle.  For there was nere any glory greater tonight than that of the heaven’s silver heart.

She lifted out of the water, or so I dost fathom.  The silver light her garments, the darkness her attire.  Her skin was incredibly pale, nay so flawless as if heaven itself had sculpted its surface.  Those eyes shined with the wisdom of the stars, a breath-taking depth that could see deeper in me than I couldst ever have felt.  Her lips were not unlike young rose buds, how sweet they must taste, then.  Hands, her hands were so delicate they could hast been crafted of glass.  The curtain of star dust that was her hair glided down her slender back.

It seemed as though she drifted across the water whence the silver walk way stretched from the firmament.  The mere never moved.  Nary a ripple though mine eyes wouldst strain to see if those gentle feet would alight on its surface.  A phantom in the night, she moved so easily that it was difficult to determine the distance she did cometh.  As my eyes dost shut, a short blink that I did not much desire to miss her beauty, I was stunned by her presence being so thus close to me.  Surely, mine mouth dost been held open as mine throat constricted with soreness and mine lips to numb.

She was poised upon the sand in a tiny pool of light.  A soft breeze fluttered her shimmering hair.  Alas!  I dost thought I must lose mine wits!  Then, those rosy lips parted and it seemed the world wouldst stop turning simply to hear the sound of her voice.  Naught less than an angel could speak with such transcendence.  No genius could dost have reproduced this heavenly instrument.  Mine ears surely had heard the voice of the firmament!  I must truly have melted to that spot, wouldst I have never desired to move, mine veins stunned by the pureness that pulsed through them.

Those melodic words she breathed I hast never forgot.  Answers naught were supplied me when hence I sought the phrase in texts.  Wouldst I tell you, I wouldst break a covenant barely parted from mine own throat.  To think it a peculiar experience would hardly do it service.  Even so, it wouldst surely question its validity, which I doth not durst.  For it dost happen, oh to the firmament I dost swear the truth, I saw the Lady of the Silver Heart.

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