Her Wanton Heart

©2012, Olan L. Smith

She comes upon a harsh north wind and chills

My still beating heart; her fingers icy tendrils

Splay open my breast. I am paralyzed by fear; my mouth

Gapes; I gawk as she confiscates a frozen heart

And places it upon her mantel above icy flames.

It remains for an eternity never to beat

Till a beam perchance shines through her transom

And warms my soul, reanimating my heart of stone,

Rhythm is restored ― lub-dub... its commotion

Echoes through her chamber; I feared my warden

Wakes from her wintry incarnation to recapture

Her treasure. Alas, she remains in

Repose, a frozen smirk upon her face. My once

Frozen heart dances with joy and leaps down

Into my chest replacing stone with flesh

And I, vigorous, am still captive within a

High fortress of ice, tucked away

In hoarfrost, I draw near her and perceive

A liquid tear rolls down her icy cheek to touch

Her snowy bed, a wonder as a wanton witch dissolves.

(I dedicate this poem to sloanranger)