Upon the Darkling Mooors

by Daniel Green

Upon the Darkling Moors by Daniel Green

Amongst the mossed and ancient stones
of rituals older still.
where nymphs still skip and call and play
and nothing seems at ill,
when moonlight casts its magic glow
upon the ancient stone below
a lover’s tryst is hidden
upon the darkling moors.

“Oh, my love, one night alone,
is not enough with you.
But when daylight comes we must be gone.
You know what I say’s true.
But meet again tomorrow night
under the sweet old moonlight.
Our secret safe it shall remain
upon the darkling moors.”

“Yes, my love tomorrow again,”
his lover’s soft reply.
“My heart still aches all through the day
this I can’t deny.
But patience I must wait and bear
until I’m back within your care,
until back in your loving arms,
upon the darkling moors.”

Ancient stones

And with one last kiss he was gone,
cruelly torn away,
to live their lives in separate worlds
and await the next night’s play.
But fate’s a cruel and twisted fiend
when dark circumstance convened
a plot amongst the ancient stones
upon the darkling moors.

She came again the second night,
but no sign of love returned.
She came again upon the third
and still her lover spurned.
“When again will I see you love?”
“When you meet your gods above.”
the fates’ ashen black retort,
upon the darkling moors.

Upon the fourth she came again,
though her heart did not expect
to see her lover waiting there,
that surmise correct.
But a paper tatter did attend,
a letter that her lover penned,
she folded out and read aloud,
upon the darkling moors.

“My sweet young beauty I must be brief,
our country needs my sword.
But I will fight for you my dear,
’til your safety is restored.
And I promise we shall meet once more
on moonlight drenched and dripping moor.
Wait and I will soon return
upon the darkling moors.”

And through the seasons long she waited,
long after war was done.
Until all the others had returned,
all those that were not gone.
She waited when all hope was lost,
through autumn winds and winter frost,
she waited in the long dark night
upon the darkling moors.

Then in snow on winters eve
the wind a voice it bore
words of comfort, of long ago
“We shall meet once more” -
an echoed promise of years gone by
an oath below this very sky.
“Is it you, are you there?” She whispered
upon the darkling moors.

And there he leant against a stone,
the figure of love he stood.
He held his arms out to her
as any lover should.

She ran to his warm embrace
but all she met was cold stone face,
through his arms her anguish fell
upon the darkling moors.

His eyes became a well of sorrow
as tears rolled down her face.
“We shall meet once more” he said
“But only one last grace,
to bid to you my last farewell,
to release you from your hell,
and now my soul can rest at ease,
upon the darkling moors.”

And so, he gave her one last smile
to quench the long-wept tears,
to bring back memories of long ago,
of times gone by, of better years.
Though tears still fell she returned the smile,
and there they stood and stared a while,
to forget the heartbreak to be felt
upon the darkling moors.

“But please, you cannot leave!

Please don’t go!”

She begged as he began to fade
or as shadows began to grow.
But her pleas were all in vain;
death will not spare lovers twain,
even at the ancient stones
upon the darkling moors.