The Lady of The Lake

The Lady Of The Lake

Standing alongside the meandering road

Weaving, unbroken, round City Lake Groves

She stands waiting; waiting, and waiting

Underneath a sky lit brightly

Beneath full moon, waters sparkle lightly

She stands waiting; waiting, and waiting

Onto the roadway, she steps with grace

Wearing a gown of long white lace

The Lady of The Lake stands waiting; waiting, and waiting.

Down the roadway, a bright shining star

Headlights of an approaching car

Two lovers, like bugs, playing in a jar

Stop just short, but not too far

The Lady of the Lake taps lightly on the window

Face lighted  with  eeriest of glow

"Been here for hours,   all alone

I wonder, if you would, please, take me home."

The young couple compassionately take her in

As her sad tale, she slowly  spins

Of she and her lover, a dreadful fight

Ended up with her, alone that night

But the end of this story is not yet told

As night winds blow, bitterly cold

“I live upon that hill,” she proclaims

“134 South Mockingbird Lane.”

So to the address, the young couple drive

Turning to look, with great surprise

Where once sat a girl, all dressed in white

Now only lake moss, reflecting moonlight

More often than not, this tale is repeated

By full mooned nights, by lovers greeted

The Lady of the Lake, her mourful song

To another time, she does belong

On a night like this, her lover did strangle

Until her lifeless body did dangle

Heaved in a boat, and out to the middle

Tossed her over, like discarded spittle

And into the darkness, he disappeared

No remorse, no shame, feeling no fear

'Til mysteriously, he died one moonlit night

No natural cause, was his delight

But he died, they say, from  mortal fright

Burning his eyes with a horrible sight

And though this tale is widely known

She's left to roam all alone

Her long gown of purest white lace

Golden blond hair, all nicely in place

 Still appearing, on starlit nights

The Lady of the Lake

 Stands waiting and waiting.

Author's Note

Inspired by actual events, created by imaginative minds. We actually had a Lady of The Lake where I grew up.

Reviews

[Kathy Van Kurin]

'The Lady of The Lake'
M.E. Lyle,
This reminds of the many legends which exist. As your note;
The Lady of the Lake was one where you grew up.
I was thinking of the stories in families which are passed down over generations.
They are like legends too. The thing is, even though we don't know the origins.
still you can't help but wonder what the actual truth might of been if any.
So interesting! Your poem was wonderful in all of it's winsome tinglyness..
Loved it.
'Great how the story turns beautifully;
So to the address the young couple drive
Turning to look with great surprise
'Where once sat a girl all dressed in white
now only lake moss, reflecting moonlight.'

Blessings,
Kathy

[Sami Khalil]

"She's left to roam all alone
Her long gown of purest white lace
Golden blond hair, all nicely in place

Still appearing, on starlit nights"

I felt the anticipation, the haunting and the darkened experience. Excellent...:).....

[Woody]

absolutely captivating and masterfully rendered.
actual events, d'you say? why don't I ever experience out-of-the-ordinary events?
creepily delicious or deliciously creepy?

[Marie]

I have heard similar tales; none quite like this. An eerie and beautiful poem.