The Lady cut a golden curl from her husband’s hair
and placed it in the locket beside the lock of black.
She would give it to his son when old enough to bear
sad story of two fathers who were never coming back.
And so they bonded, two twin brothers, dark and light
never questioning the difference in the color of their skin.
The Lady dreamed of The Spanish Moor every night
and when she beheld his son, each day, thought of him;
his midnight eyes, caramel skin, long hair, black as blue .
She knew it was impossible to ever take another lover
for The Beautiful Moor would be the only one who knew
the way her passion blazed, her every pleasure to discover.
Before hearth’s warmth she’d sit, oft times half the night
weaving a red cape for her Moor in the dancing firelight.
Her sons were quickly growing into strong young men.
Each one looked like the father they would never know.
All the royal advisors demanded that she marry again.
Instead of dying, love for The Moor continued to grow.
One night she wakened from a sweetest dream of amor.
A man’s hand slid over her mouth… a whisper in her ear
“Your Moor, Amor De Mi Vida is back from distant shore
No more tears, Mi Querida, for now your lover is here.”
Insistent lips claimed hers in breathless kisses so divine
as strong hands tenderly caressed each womanly curve.
She lay in love’s naked splendor forgetting all about time
as her hands and lips awakened his every masculine nerve
When pink dawn streaked the sky she told him of each son.
He replied there was room in his heart for more than one.
In the morning the midnight eyes of the Spanish Moor
filled with glistening tears as he met both Lady’s boys.
For long years he had wished for his own son to adore
and two sons would bring to his big heart double joys.
He raised them well, taught them both of justice and pity
making kings of them both to rule in each father’s stead
one in realm of the late Laird, one in his own distant city
When He and The Lady were at last ceremoniously wed.
And no one in the realm could say evil of the dark Moor
for he proved himself to be a champion of all kith and kin
To His Lady, undying love and fidelity her husband swore
The Spanish Moor was a king, a great man among men.
They lived long in peace, love and mutual understanding
for God is merciful and of retribution ‘oft undemanding.
Belle, five and all were scribed with the full range of emotions, poetically defined by your masterful pen my dear friend. I thoroughly enjoyed each one of them. Library catches. I bid you love and peace. Jon Michael
I saw part 5 the end.....and thought I had better get a cup of coffee before opening this and really enjoy it!!! you didn't let me down......loved this. ~ Morgan.......possibly a spin off story somewhere down the line.......Please...............
A story of everlasting love that will surpass the test of time and the detailed aching of the heart as life must move forward. You express all exceptionally well and keep all the threads of other chapters freely flowing. Absolutely endearing and beautiful...
'...AND WHO WOULD YOU RATHER BE YOUR PUNISHER?...(GOD QUESTIONED DAVID)...MAN OR ME? 'YOU', DAVID ANSWERED FOR FROM YOU I CAN OBTAIN MERCY...BUT NOT FROM MAN...' WELL DONE AND ENJOYED. THANKS FOR SHARING...LOVE, BLESSINGS & FAITH...JOYCE * HIS INSPIRATIONS
I wrote this novel several years ago, I self published and never had it to sell. I have decided to rewrite it and hope to get it published within a few months for people to be able to buy. I had a few copies and gave them to a few family members and
Ron
fee
Be always safe,
Karen
Amor
Each part was excellent,
a thoroughly satifying experience for me
start to finish.
Kudos!
John
Love
Tony
in perpetuity forever
~La Belle Rouge~
has given us this great gift for
the beauty of it and herself
Lady Vivian