Prince Charming, exhausted, frustrated, moves on.
He pushed through the hundred-year thicket,
He fought the hairy ogre
and the wildebeests that kept coming, kept coming.
And when he made it to the castle, there she was.
Just as legend and her father had promised, only more beautiful.
He kneels beside her bed, caresses her hand, then
kisses her gently, tastes her pale lips. Waits.
Nothing happens. He kisses her again,
not so gently this time. She does not stir.
He stands, stares for a moment, then turns
and walks half-stumbling out of the room.
Past the stinking carcasses of the wildebeests,
the broken heap that once was such a terrifying monster.
Down the rough hewn path through the brambles,
and in search of another enchanted castle.
He moves on, because he doesn't know what else to do.
He moves on, because there was no magic in his kiss.



Copyright © banjo ... [ 2003-03-29 05:05:00]
(Date/Time posted on site)