Oh Annemette, my viking maid, now comes the difficult scene!
How could my pen get it right? May all spirits of night, inspiration, insight, may that gentle Bill be my guide!
Now they are on the tower, together! A scene of a kiss is always sooooooooo hard to describe! It would be a pity for them to destroy the beauty of that night. So I try, I really try to get it right, but please spank me if it gets too kitschy! ;-)
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A spank in the rear, alas! That was indeed what he needed! The princess of light succeeded to do what all others failed.
She proved to be stronger than steel, stronger than strongest anxiety! Her golden hair in the midnight air was more than what we would call mighty!
Her love alone was enough and - oh well - you might now laugh, a bit of a spanking hand which let that prince comprehend, that the warmth was sincerely meant!
Wake up, you prince of the darkness! Prince of the sadness, just see! She pulled you up, you can now just *be* whatever you want in her light! End of the doubts, end of the fight!
A kiss in the night that our pens can't describe! So we let them be in the grace of that kiss that reveals: Love can be stronger than all steel and fight. ----------------------------------------
Oh no! He didn't hold on? What a stupid guy! What a stupid guy!!! ;-)
Thank you very much, Annemette! It's the backstage part of the city that not many visitors see, but I love it for the twisted ideas. More than the half of the population there have to do with arts one way or the other, and so the is much to see.
Oh, and since it has to do with arts, let's continue that tale of golden hair! What about a nice old fashioned shakespearean comedy?
Scene I, Enter narrator and the prince of darkness
The prince of darkness keeps silent.
Narrator (very cynically): For yet another time he was too late! Look at that mate! The flask and his guitar is all he holds. Why did he have to hesitate?
He has to ask himself and wonder, if he would get a another chance some day, to leave his darkness for her light. To escape the sadness of the steady inner fight.
But now he has to get back on his way in solitary thoughts and heavy steps. Why all these doubts? He has to ponder the statement that he gave about his weight, being too high for the finest golden hair, instead of simply saying that he's afraid!
The prince of darkness was afraid! Afraid? What kind of prince is that, that has such fears? His pants were full, that's all! A nice prince is that, to fear being pulled up the wall!
She would have pulled him up indeed, but there he stands, a fool with his guitar, regreting what he did, singing the boogie of his fate. He knows for just another time: Too late!
Your turn, Annemette! Make it! (And let her pull him up some day, please!;-))
:-))))) What a great one, Nick! Had he hold on to her hair, she would have pulled him right up:) Very special artwork on the house which makes it so much more interesting bringing another kind of life to the town. Best wishes, Annemette
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