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The hard hilt of a hefted blade .... by Wendy Zinger The hard hilt of a hefted blade, melded To masterful hand, metal matched to grip. Grace with grave countenance, gritted teeth, Teasing with tactics and taking a blow. Born for beauty and blue summers, Stalking now, and sending a sweeping thrust Through the opposing air, thrashing - at naught? No fair innocent, the narrowed brows show A sure shot and a shrewd arm, eyes bright. A maid, alas, beguiled by bared steel, So leaves softer pursuits, seemly duties, Down a darker road, dangerous and hard. High-hearted and with a hopeful joy, Joining the warriors, the just defenders Of the green dale, the deep divided hills, Home to her own heart and heart of the valley. |
Copyright © 1996 Wendy Zinger
All Rights Reserved.