Lady in Waiting

Such a beautiful, mournful piece of poetry. Thought-provoking!
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Impromptu Promptlings

Who is this lady and what is she doing? Set your timer for ten minutes and write about her.

The Iron Palace

On the parapet high above
in the fading light of dying day,
quietly she stands
upon the tower wall,
bare of the mask of her life.

As I watch,
her moon-kissed golden hair
teased by relentless breeze
interrupts her reverie
as it whips wildly about
like a fairy halo.

Day after day,
night after night
she stands thus
listening to the song of the sea,
gazing far into the west.

What does she wait for…
return…
rescue…
revelation…
…rest.

In the dim light
stray tears trace paths
down her pale cheeks,
and I find myself wondering
if the gray fortress
is her protection
or her prison.

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