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The boatman rose to the sound of his heartbeat Loud in the silent approach of the dawn He glanced through the window at mist on the lake Which hung like a shroud in the still of the morn The silver cobwebs spun with the dew Hung from the bushes in filigree splendour And water lilies asleep on the lake Were reflected so delicate, tranquil and tender. The boat man sighed as he strode through the woods To the place where his boat lay moored to a stake The hollow sound as his footsteps echoed Until the sound was lost on the lake He cast off, poling the boat from the shore Peering a head through damp clinging haze He thought that he saw strange swirling shapes A trick on the eyes that the mist often plays. So intent was the boatman on crossing the lake That he failed to notice the current that flowed Leading his boat from familiar parts He was firmly, yet somehow unknowingly, towed All at once the mist seemed to lift Sufficient to show the boatman a pool That he'd never seen in the whole of his life Unnaturally deep, black and silent, and cool. The boatman's shirt clung to his back He was sweating both from exertion and fear He had the sensation that someone was watching He felt the presence of somebody near An invisible force prevented him moving The strength of his arms was utterly sapped The twisted bushes converged round the lake Like a fish in a net he was trapped. Suddenly out of the water before him The wraith-like form of a maiden appeared Clad in shimmering radiant robes The maiden materialised as she neared The hair which finely crowned her head Was a halo of golden reflecting the sun All of the beautiful women of time Were formed all at once into one. |
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