BEATNIK: A Poetry Collection

tired fantasy

when the silver moon

had been drunk the

maiden in white walked

upon the lake.

there she looked to

the stars and saw

the descending mist

take the form of a

funnel.

as this shape lowered

it fell upon the water

without a sound.

not a single ripple

was made as the funnel

of mist took the image

of a chimera upon the

lake's surface.

looking to the maiden,

the chimera spoke in

the tongue of men, and

warned her of the dawn.

in a blink the maiden

had turned her back on

the beast, causing it

to become mist once again.

and as the sun arose

the maiden in white

had turned to stone.

now trapped in this form,

the maiden fell through

the water's surface,

forever trapped within

the bowels of the lake.

as the sun lifted higher

the mist on the water

cleared, revealing the

ripple-less lake and the

beauty hidden beneath it.