Lost In Thought

Lost In Thought

See the man who stands here thinking,
on forest vistas he is drinking,
seen through eyes that see too much sometimes,
and yet see so much more,

On a briar pipe he's smoking,
thoughts and images invoking,
memories and things gone by him, clearer might his mind implore,

Lonely paths whose steps are trodden only by those men of yore,
and will tread again once more.

Battle-cries and arms contested,
foes who, one by one, he's bested,
cagey craft and curious cunning, sent them running from the field,

Now a foe comes, whose far darker
plots and devices are their marker,
shadow-shapes that walk the streets with shadow-weapons that they wield,

Lost in thought, on their defeat the final blow which makes them yield,
Thus their fate, it shall be sealed.

Swiftly, now, those thoughts are flying,
hither and yon, and lightly trying,
turning from the grim, dark business that makes up the work of war,

Mindscapes soften in the ballroom,
ladies twirling in the night-gloom,
starry nights and lavender-scented galleries off the corridor,

Waiting for that one last fleeting kiss outside the ballroom door,
then taking up the sword once more.

(c) 20 FEB 05 by JSR