An Untold Fairytale

In a fabled town,

Season in and season out

The stone cold figure,

facing south

Stood guarding up

With an etched out frown.

Many mighty knights,

Traders and their wives

That had ventured past

Shared much a strife.

"What atrophy must we muster?,"

Asked kings to their wise men.

That may cause to spoil or fester

That rotten piece of crag.

And hence the plan was devised.

After much dialogue and dissension, 

To thaw the sentinel's escutcheon,

They beckoned the reclusive anchorite.

For who would understand better

The loneliness of the figure,

That braved each friend and foe

With an arrow and bow.

The scarlet sky did forebode,

She knew some mischief was to approach.

With weapon in hands she poised,

To bring down the enemy with reproach.

What came next

Left her stupefied.

She fell for the rogue,

Without as much as a fight.

He grazed at her feet,

Traced past her belly.

His warm touch melting

The coolness of her valor.

He whispered in her ears

Much not that she could fathom.

All that she cool feel

Was his hands around her cold shoulders.

With every stroke and caress,

She saw herself transformed

From a ruthless stone sculpture

To a girl with hair, coloured fawn.

The hermit knew not

What was to come next.

That sudden rush of passion,

He never did expect.

That day was removed off history

Since no one ever found,

What happened of the lovers,

Of that mystical, sylvan town.