The Stone Prince

The Stone Prince

The bonfire burns now with less motivation, but nonetheless, it continues to
Snap and launch the occasional orange ribbon upward into the starless night.
My vision slowly readjusts as I fully awaken from a short, unintentional nap.
The effect of the hypnotic flame is soporific, and I threaten to doze once more.
Pulling myself upright to dismiss the urge to sleep, I let my heavy-lidded
Gaze survey the panorama of midnight and turn my back to the waning warmth.
The extent of my solitude is magnified as I look back towards the cottage, and
I remember that the closest neighbors are away for the next three weeks.
I know that I am awake now, as the fire is beginning to heat my backside beyond
A comfortable level; yet I question the sight of a faint blue glow in the distance.
Zipping my jacket up to my chin to compensate for the change in temperature
As I move away from the fire, I cross the now dampened grass in the clearing
And walk directly toward the garden and the source of my most recent fascination.
With scant caution, I slowly pass the double trellis hanging full of promised blooms;
And my approach is heralded by a glorious round of rainbow gilded laughter.
My eyes are surely being deceptive. The statue by the orchard is no longer there,
But a curiously handsome fellow with devilment in his eyes is sitting in the middle
Of my well tended blossoms fashioning a tiny wreath of wildflowers and rosemary.
Fully overcome with careless curiosity, I kneel on the cushion of aromatic green
And ask with mock boldness for his name and the reason for his unexpected visit.
The ringlet of petals is placed around my wrist in reply, and my fate is sealed
Within suspended seconds of wonder by the first touch of an otherworldly hand.

Copyright Tina Jordan 2017 All Rights Reserved

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