Triumph

A photo of a friend inspired me to write this. She is in a dress she made for a Ren Fair, the photo is black and white. {{Dedicated to Nightengale}}

She stands, perfectly poised
in a grove of First trees,
an emerald gown
gracing her curves.
Her raven hair falling
gently upon ivory shoulders.

She is a beautiful woman,
almost intoxicating.
A look at her is like
a sweet wine aged
to near perfection.

Her gaze catches mine,
holding me captive in her
deep, dark eyes.
Demanding. Commanding.

What is it that lies
behind those eyes?
It isn't pain,
not loss.
Neither can it
be called
defiance.

What I see runs far
deeper then all these.
What is hiding just beyond
is something much more.

IT IS TRIUMPH.

The eyes of a woman
who has seen the world
and knows what truly
lies beyond the silken
gauze of gratification.

She has seen how
the empire twists dreams
into unforgettable
nightmares.

Yet, here she still stands.
Strong as the earliest
trees of Creation.
As enduring as a
mountainside against
a spring's torrent.

She is at once
the glory and
the darkness.
Her eyes have seen
the deepest blackness
but her heart
knows the richest glories.

She has indeed won
her many battles
and quite nearly the war.
She is a triumphant
victor returning to
her kingdom, her throne,
to her beloved.

N. Strong

Reviews

[Dawn Jones]

You make me want ta be her.
Great imagery... beautiful woman.