The Snow Queen Poem by David Lewis Paget

The Snow Queen



He wandered in a country lane
Beside a hedgerow, in the rain,
And heard a voice, so sweet and low,
‘Oh sir, why have you left me so? '

The rain was but an April shower
She sat beneath a willow bower,
And through the hedge, he saw her face
Such radiance, such gentle grace.

She plucked the petals from some flower
As if to mark this fateful hour,
And chanted in a muse, begot,
‘He loves me, ' and, ‘he loves me not.'

The voice was musical and deep
Beguiling him, as if from sleep,
And drew him through the hedgerow gap,
To where this wondrous vision sat.

She looked at him, her eyes of ice
Then dropped, so he'd not see them twice,
‘Good sir, if it should please you here
Sit with me, be of goodly cheer.'

He sat, as if one hypnotised
And sought to gaze into her eyes,
But she, demure, stared at the ground
To hide her secrets, so profound.

‘I heard your sadness and refrain,
What brings you to rehearse your pain? '
She whispered sad, her tale of woe,
‘He went where all my lovers go.'

‘Then they are fools, ' the man exclaimed,
‘Your loveliness should bring you fame,
My heart beats at the thought of you
But loving me, as those you do.'

‘You are so sweet, ' she then replied,
‘And kind I know, though you have lied,
I am not worthy of such praise,
As I have learnt, these latter days.'

‘I must repeat, my words are true,
I sit besotted here with you,
Should you give me the merest chance
To love you…' She spared him a glance.

Her eyes were blue, ice blue and cold
Though he took heart, her glance was bold,
He reached out to embrace her hand
As snow fell gently, through the land.

Her skin was cold, and in its grip
He shivered at the thought of it,
As up his arm her fingers spread
Such cold, his thoughts had turned to dread.

She pulled him closer, turned her lips
Towards him, gave him one sweet kiss
That sent ice shivers down his spine,
While ice caves crept into his mind.

The snow fell faster, bleak and white
She kept him frozen there all night,
And sighed, ‘a pity, love is true,
But I must do what I must do! '

She smiled at last, sang one high note
Then sank her teeth into his throat,
And as his heartbeat fed the flood,
She gorged on his untainted blood.

At last she stood, and wiped her lips,
‘So sad, it has to come to this,
But love serves me, one common theme
To feed the lust of the… Snow Queen! '

19 January 2013

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David Lewis Paget

David Lewis Paget

Nottingham, England/live in Australia
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