Charlotte Poem by martin.j. schofield

CHARLOTTE

In the silvery light on a brazen morn’,
Perhaps forgotten,
Perhaps reborn.
You became quintessential; a pinnacle of womanhood,
Respect ladened with proof –
Beauty beyond charity.
Upon your brow of golden locks,
Should suffice a bejeweled crown,
Not a luxury
Not a frown.
A stunning sight, as to block out the light –
From Icaris’s condemned flight,
As head over heels he might,
Fall,
Far and away spiraling towards destiny’s reward.
Delivering a point of no return,
And no hope;
For such was the frailty of transient descent,
That the glow of your temptation,
Far below,
Was such a powerful stance of grace,
As to render the impact as naught.
Might he long for your adoration,
Or change the cause
Pray lady lest you be that also,
And wreak havoc on fates applause.
Like the lioness at dusks hue,
You permeate not lurid tranquility,
But an essence;
ESSENTIAL TO LIFE?
A vitality born of nobility,
Smitten with strife.
Nay you knew it not, not so,
For ancestry is just a slew of memoirs,
For memories sake,
Long since departed,
Forever awake, without ill.
Dignity prevails bound by privilege.
When you stride across your horizon,
All hail.
When you greet your cubs,
With subtle fervor and warmth;
When your time finally comes,
It would take a mammoth indeed,
Filled with furious courage,
But to father and feed,
And become one, to enliven such creed.
As you and yours.
A glory fulfilled,
A tale fit to burst,
With intrigue, a bevy of thirst,
If truth be known and I not be foresworn;
I would tell ye, of her majesty,
And her peculiar bloodline.