Waiting For Love

A cliff, a beach, the rocking seas
at night, the moon, a sense of peace,
upon the cliff a maiden fair
with golden locks of braided hair.

She stands up here, under the moon
while in the sea breeze she does swoon,
on guard until her loves return,
‘cause love we know can deeply burn.

But will she ever see him again?
With mortal eyes given to men.
Or will she have a broken heart?
As love lost will turn into smart.
 
She stood there from the eve ‘till dawn,
on the cliffs soft grassy lawn,
for many years, ‘till old and frail,
and ‘till she on a climb did fail.

Her body broken on the beach,
now easily within death's reach,
who took her to the great beyond,
where she heard a familiar sound.

And there he was her one true love,
her hearth soared like a turtle dove,
so in the end, she was still his,
and the living world she'd barely miss.

So death is not always the end,
when from this world we have been send,
it can even be a boon,
to those worn down under the moon.