'The Desert Maid' by Alyssa R GeorgeThe grandpa grinned his gummy grin
And called the children to him -
His withered hands clenched withered knees
But fooled not those as knew him.

"Come, grandpapa, it's eventide!"
They cried - "Let's have a story!"
Some shouted, "Long!" Some shouted, "Now!"
And "Scary!" "Funny!" "GORY!"

"Ah, hush yourselves!" the elder laughed,
Hands stretched now to the fire;
"I'll tell you now a god-true tale -
"you know that I'm no liar!"

They didn't know, but squealed with glee:
"A duel! A king! A tourney!"
"No, no and no," he chuckled, wry -
"A deadly desert journey."

Full silence fell upon the bairns
Each breath pent up with waiting
Until at last the grandpa spoke
His gravel-aged voice grating:

There lived a man - in older days -
Whose dearest love was roaming;
His sweetheart was the wand'ring road,
The ocean broad and foaming;

The forest track, the mountain trail,
The crystal cascades falling;
He did not care for busy towns
While wilderness was calling.

Full half the world had he traversed
Before he heard Her singing:
A voice remote as comet-dust
Upon the west wind winging.

To set in words just what he heard
Is nothing clear or easy -
Her song was like a fire's voice
But gentler, softer, breezy ...

He travelled west - how could he not? -
Though other travellers warned him
And soon was given up for mad;
The town and croftfolk scorned him.

But still he sought that western end
Where none save he were going
And where that road failed at his feet
He found the desert glowing.

How to describe that searing sea?
Not dunes of sand, but mountains -
Scoured endlessly by roaring winds,
Tossed up in lashing fountains.

He wandered there in trembling awe
Bereft of rest and water
For he still heard Her faint, faint voice;
All burning day he sought Her.

The sun sank down in blazing haze,
The blazing moon replaced it -
The dunes burned whitely in its light
As wearily he faced it ...

But hark! O, hark! What was that sound
That through the night came creeping?
The voice, the voice! And louder now!
He waited, wild heart leaping.

And then She came. He saw Her move
Like waves upon the ocean
Her skirts merged fully with the dune
With every surging motion.

She shone more brightly than the stars
Her sweeping raiment shimmered
Her eyes were molten silverlight
And with the moon's love glimmered.

She flowed to him, Her breathy song
Still with the wind entwining;
And wide She spread her slender arms
Where fractured stars were shining

But when She clasped him to Her breast -
Love-drunk, as if by brandy -
Her flesh was neither soft nor smooth
But harsh and rasping ... sandy.

The desert-maid engulfed him then
Her whisper-voice still sighing;
He felt Her flow in nose and mouth
And knew that he was dying.

The hand he raised to push Her back
Flowed through Her grainy shoulder;
He could not speak, he could not breathe,
And surely could not hold Her -

With one last surge he pulled away
And fled the dune-crest, fearful;
His last clear sight of Her cold face
Was molten-silver tearful.

Aye, he escaped the western sands,
Returning ne'er in never -
Perhaps the sand-maid waits there still;
I fear she'll wait forever.

The children muttered to themselves -
Ill-pleased by aught so sappy -
But none complained to grandpapa;
They'd not see him unhappy.


But grandpapa does not look up
As out the door they're piling;
He's slipped back into deeper dreams
Where She is waiting, smiling.