A Melody Of Love

Stella sits and smiles a knowing smile at the chaos of the day,
While we foolishly, dart this way and that in a world that never stops.
A slender, feminine hand offers a glimpse; to those that just might pause long enough,
of a youthful, fragile time of love and devotion…….

An elegant young girl of poise, wise enough to realise that she should
stop and wait before leaping onto that merry-go-round of madness, we call life.
She drinks slowly from that precious cup of youth and savours every mouthful, leaving that very last drop to linger on her pink primrose painted lips as a vintage never to be forgotten.

Just as a fairytale princess, she broke many hearts and left many frogs un-kissed,
but one dashing Knight is snared on the barbs of our English Rose to forever be entwined with hers and in doing so, the individual rhythm of two hearts join to become one melody of love.

She follows her Sir Guy to lands we now reject as our empire days of yore. To share his life in love for the ocean and of service, and when cruelly parted to place her heart suspended to serve her family, comforted only by the memory etched by the sweet cup of youth now so poignantly mixed with salted tears upon her quivering lips.

A castle was kept, a garden well tended for her hero to return and her love so freely poured out to her gifts - the children she bore became reflections of her beauty and grace, a statement of never ending love, securing a place in his heart during the darkness of his toil.

Failing health in age and eyes that clouded all beauty, the strength of children now
grown up, echo back the love of years and the joy of sharing in their joy keep their partnership so dear. Dependence on each other, a loyal dog and homestead forge the autumn of their days and the last drop from the chalice rests moist upon their lips to keep them warm when darkness falls.
……………………………..

And yet, we still look into those kindly, loving eyes long after Sir Guy had fought his bravest fight and see the radiant love she has for his gifts and the gifts from gifts. And now a generation who have supped and who have yet to supp from that same chalice, a brew as sweet and as precious as ever, a brew sustaining their faith in life and that she prays will last throughout.

Whilst her eyes may not reflect the full beauty of the crystal pools of youth, nor her ears no longer be filled with the memory of crashing waves on the fore-shore, the smile on her delicate painted lips still tell her story. She still dances her dance and waits patiently for the day her Guy rejoins the beating of their hearts once more to perform their endless melody of love.