Rhiannon

Rhiannon travelled all day long
through the wooded vale
and out across the Heathered moor
with skin so pale.
Her coal black eyes stared straight ahead,
she never looked at me
as she rode along the winding path
that led down to the sea.
I saw her lips move constantly
as though in silent prayer
until she reached the water's edge
and vanished there.
She left no footprints in the sand,
as though the surging tide
had swept them all away
when the sea breeze sighed.
Thoughout the night I searched in vain
along the lonely shore
but never found a single sign
so looked no more.
But if ghosts really do exist
and spirits roam the earth so free;
then at some future point in time
when one such spirit will be me,
I'll stand upon this tranquil shore
and gaze across the land
until Rhiannon rides once more
along the drifting sand.

By

Kathleen Thorpe