My Dragonfly
by Jonas Hyde
‘Wherefore art thou?’
my love,
my dear,
I weep ‘pon the eve’s cool mid night,
wishing my words held their weight,
as when whispered in times of yore.
Alas,
I lie,
here alone in an emerald field,
crimson rivers marbling my eyes,
dripping oceans of despair,
drowning out my soul.
I battle the restlessness,
as I try and fall to the fatigue,
the weariness that ne’er claims me,
and tho’ I long for it to,
it allows me no respite,
no reprieve from the pain.
My heart pounds,
as my mind wanders,
is it curse enough I lie alone,
that I must feel the anguish in each moment,
in every breath,
of lonely solitude?
And just as hope is to exhale,
in concert with my final gasp,
salvation comes to me,
on the gentle wind,
of Zephyr’s embrace,
giving me reason to invite the dawn.
I reach out my hand,
expose my palm,
which is as naked,
bare,
and stripped as my soul,
when she softly lands ‘pon me.
Fragile faerie,
whose gentle touch soothes my pain,
tempering the tempest,
the battle that rages within,
gives me strength,
with just a look.
I pull her close,
fearful she shall fly away once more,
as she has so often ‘fore,
tho’ this time she remains,
and her sweet scent,
bewitches me.
“Fear not my love,
I am here,”
she finally whispers in reply to my pleas,
words I have longed for,
yearned to hear for an eternity,
as her lips meet mine.
For the first time in fore’er,
and a night more,
my eyes close,
as I taste her pumpkin spice,
and my wounds heal,
as I soak her in.
My head falls back softly,
guided by her own strength,
with a vigor and potency,
unbecoming of her size,
and I drift off,
relishing in a slumber I have enjoyed all too rare.
The dreams of that night,
are a tale to be told another time,
for it will take a score or ten,
to find the words of solace I felt,
but when I awoke,
I did so with the verity of a new dawn.
And tho’ fairies are figures,
of tales and dreams,
her scent still lingered,
her taste was still ‘pon my lips,
and in her stead,
fluttered the wings of my dragonfly.
