Till the Sun Comes Shining Through
The boatman rose to the sound of his heartbeat

Loud in the silent approach of the dawn

He glanced through the window at mist on the lake

Which hung like a shroud in the still of the morn

The silver cobwebs spun with the dew

Hung from the bushes in filigree splendour

And water lilies asleep on the lake

Were reflected so delicate, tranquil and tender.

The boat man sighed as he strode through the woods

To the place where his boat lay moored to a stake

The hollow sound as his footsteps echoed

Until the sound was lost on the lake

He cast off, poling the boat from the shore

Peering a head through damp clinging haze

He thought that he saw strange swirling shapes

A trick on the eyes that the mist often plays.

So intent was the boatman on crossing the lake

That he failed to notice the current that flowed

Leading his boat from familiar parts

He was firmly, yet somehow unknowingly, towed

All at once the mist seemed to lift

Sufficient to show the boatman a pool

That he'd never seen in the whole of his life

Unnaturally deep, black and silent, and cool.

The boatman's shirt clung to his back

He was sweating both from exertion and fear

He had the sensation that someone was watching

He felt the presence of somebody near

An invisible force prevented him moving

The strength of his arms was utterly sapped

The twisted bushes converged round the lake

Like a fish in a net he was trapped.

Suddenly out of the water before him

The wraith-like form of a maiden appeared

Clad in shimmering radiant robes

The maiden materialised as she neared

The hair which finely crowned her head

Was a halo of golden reflecting the sun

All of the beautiful women of time

Were formed all at once into one.-acap