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He Could Give Her Nothing But His Greatness....

The Last Concubine
By La Belle Rouge

He had grown old and his bones
ached in the chill of long nights
when winter’s snow lay frozen
on the stone walls of his palace.
Once sharp enough to discover
their target in the distance,
his eagle eyes were dimmed now.
Strong arms that bent the bow
and wielded the royal sword
making faint the hearts of enemies
were now withered, raised sinews
prominent beneath thinning skin.

The warrior king lay abed
with reveries of the many
delightful women of his nights
from the first to the last.
Some forever gone from his sight
others busy with grandchildren
and not disposed to share the bed
of a frail man they remembered
in the former days of his virility.
when his kisses thrilled them
and they secretly hated the one
whom he ravished or smiled at.
When they vied for his favors
or just a private conversation.

He shivered in the cold and
no thick coverlet could warm him.
He was alone with his memories
of good and evil, love and war,
until she came and laid beside him.
He could offer her only his greatness
recorded on the winds of time.
She could offer only love and respect
a warm heart and supple flesh to cling to.

Skin to skin to hold him, warm him
with no motive other than his comfort
came sweet Abashag his last concubine.
To give ear to his tales of conquests
and his many sins and bitter regrets.
She listened and never did her eyes
or her gentle, forgiving heart
judge him for his remorse and pain.
And though he could not take her
in the way he had taken many wives
with strong body and potent lust,
he took her with his heart and soul.
Lived and died warm and contented
within the circle of the caring arms
of Abashag his last concubine



4/25/2008 La Belle Rouge

“Poetry, Soul Whispers”

Music "Karma"