The Mariner's Wife by Odinsbard

Chapter 1

                             The Mariner's Wife

In these hills of green   mine heart hath grown
Embittered with bale   for the brewing of Sea waves —
Lo! Long the years   that lay upon me,
and my life's love doth   look to me not!
The wrongs I've known   to be wrought by myself
Cannot be undone,   The cares I once held
Now a Shadow of Memory   'fore a shepherdess cold
I became, that no man   would care to know me —
And I care so not   to cross any man
In his frivolous ways,   what fools they are!
What games they play!   No girl will I be
To any man;   aught else I'd be.
            Yet long ago   of Love I knew,
A man that mighty   and romantic was;
Alas! 'tis woe   that a lady with the Ocean
A husband share,   such hate it's birthed
Deep in my soul,   that when Death commeth
Only then will   the icy-chill which
Layeth upon   my languished heart
Spread through my body,   and the spoils of Time
My beauty ravish;   I rue the breaking
Of our ties, when in friendship   we talked of foolish
Things, no darkened   thoughts of sorrow
Which now rule mine existence,   as he rideth away…
Life is long; and   I will die alone
No amends made, no   kisses of love
Regained, no mornings   with the grey clouds at
First light, my Love   faintly stirring
Beside me lain,   no sweet embrace
To greet the Captain   with gracious love
From journeys long   in joy returning —
What a cold and hurt   creature I am —
My only warmth   an aura of tears,
and the salt reminds   of the Sea I have hated
for taking my Love,   turning against me.
            No time can heal   the heart that's torn;
Long ago I   looked with pleasure
On the moving Trees,   'til as masts I saw
Them sailing the Sea,   the sweet voice of
My Love calling,   believing he
Would soon return,   though he'd stay for years
Away and far   and weeping I took
To the green pastures;   the green-blue Sea
Without my sight,   always thinking
Where my Love might be.   Forlorn in grief
I gave up hope,   and grew the years
That he was away,   longer than ever
before; with ice   I filled mine heart
Within, and the joys   mine eyne once knew
Were moistened with memory,   no more to know bliss.
            I have pondered long   'neath the pallid Moon
Of years lost when   youth was wasted
Alone in the fields   while my Love was away;
Yet what could I do?   At war within himself
He always was,   and I, at war
With the Sea, who would steal   the sleep from mariner's
Eyes in the night,   Ancient songs calling.
I would lay yet still,   as he lift his head
From the cruel pillow   who could keep him not
To stay beside me;   to the sill walking
He whispered a tune   of the Waves and the Towns
And Wolds far, that   I wept to hear.
            Now sleep is spiteful,   as the soft bed was
Where we'd lain in   the white light of
The Moon in Spring,   and married new
We'd lain together   in love unblemished,
And the Birds sang of   the Bliss we knew —
Do they sing still? of   the sweet things lost
No more to be known   in this mocking shame,
My life in pieces   laying before me
Or mistakes I made   that stir my anguish?
Thou wert my Life's   worth, and without ye
I will decay,   and woe will carve
A hole in my heart   which held ye once;
Rememberest thou,   at the Mountain's foot,
Our troth we spoke   in truth, to hold
Each other's hand   whatever befell?
            The Love of my Life   will I always
Hold thee, though I   hear not from thee
Again, and the Gem   that glowed upon
My brow will not   be brought unto
My pale forehead,   of peace bereft
'Til sleep eternal   take us in sorrow.