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| Robin�s Oath of Honor Over fields of clover and meadows lush with grass full of deer, and through a wooded clearing next filled with busy creatures. She rode the land of Kings and knights and perhaps her suitor. Taking in the smells and sites with many wondrous features. At once she was set upon, her steed and her surrounded. Escorted on each side, in front one led her horse. The thieves of the forest, a rag tag group of men. Entering she saw the camp with many more from the forest. She was taken from her mount and placed on the ground. Suddenly a voice rang out; "what have we here"? As she let down her hooded frock, her beauty lit the camp. The leader stood and smiled and said: My darling Gwenevere. Down a wooded path they took as he stopped and turned around. He took her in his arms and placed a kiss upon her lips. He looked into her eyes and saw the sparkle he became. He brushed her hair aside and touched her with his finger tips. She wrapped her arms around his neck and drew him closer yet. Their passion grew as flames leapt from burning and desire. Heated breath from her moistened lips as she kissed him deeper still. He lay her on a bed of pine as they fueled the blazing fire. Her hair flowed out like a butterfly so lovely a picture scene. The sunlight shone streaks of yellow like hair spun from gold. The radiance on her face that glowed told a story from within. Her heart beat for only him this legend deep within her soul. His warm and gentle touches brought moans of deep desire. He brushed aside her golden locks and placed a fevered kiss. She clinched and held him as she whispered; "take me now I beg". He cupped his hand on her breast as tear formed from bliss. He said my sweet Gwenevere I can not take your honor. The pleasures I wish are not to be for you�re promised to another. But you will always know I love you, in my heart I place this vow. Our love can never be, now the flames of passion we must smother. The Masked Writer.<-.-> awwww � 2002 T Lovett |
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