Tuesday 3rd August 1999
I hear a knock,
Who may it be?
I run to the door,
Alas it is not My Lord...
When shall my prince return?
To be right here by my side...
To the servants I go,
In them I can confide...
Whispering in their ears,
I tell them of my love...
How I saw him ride in on his mare,
A warm glow on his face from heaven above...
The wise one takes me in her arms,
As I begin to cry...
"What is it my dear child?"
I know I cannot lie...
I stare out of the window,
Watching him dismount...
The wise one follows my gaze,
And she knows what this is about...
In she rides beside him,
Lady of the North...
Her rank as clear as light of day,
Honoured Lady of the Prince of course...
How I dream of being her,
Not the pitiful servant born...
Riding in proudly beside him,
Not sitting here peeling corn...
I close my eyes for a second,
Upon opening them he's gone...
The wise lady and the servants,
Also vanished leaving me here alone...
My Lord and My Lady,
Be off tending to many an affair...
The others being only my imagination,
Inventing for me someone to care...
I wander off to my lonely bed,
In my humble servant's home...
To dream of days that may never come,
Feelings and emotions left free to roam....