Brainsprain.net

I made my love
a simple velvet sleeve
and in it, placed a thistle
from on hilltop I did whistle
and bid him wear it as he did leave.

I watched him go
unto the valley fair
as he walked I played a tune
so he might hear the words I feared to croon
and silken ribbons filled the sunny air.

Time went by
and still my heart did yearn
as the whistle did resound
the notes did shake the gentle ground
but never did my lover return.

After two and twenty years
a husband passed and children grown
I climbed the hill again to call his name
singing to the one that never came
lost my footing and did cast aside a stone.

Underneath my clumsy heel
my hand reached among the rocks
I did find what I had craved
a package with my initial engraved
shaking hands did open up the dainty box.

A photo was revealed
of a lovely lady in her finest attire
and in her hand was clasped the tattered sleeve
the back inscribed “My daughter Genevieve”
“I could not leave the one whom I did sire”

Now with tear in eye
my whistle sounding strong
I did smile upon the choices he had made
knowing why he hadn’t stayed
and to whom his heart did really belong.

As I rose to leave
I did pack away my whistle
when a voice did fill my ears
I hadn’t heard in twenty years
as his hand took mine, I felt the thorny thistle.