She stared through the darkened stained glass, her reflection lost in its darkness;
A lone voice whispers in the distance,
Within the walls of the dilapidated Cathedral;
Heart racing as with the fright of a thousand horses,
Eyes blinded with tears,
She climbed down the stairs,
Creaking harshly in the dead of the night,
The sound piercing through the vast hall;
Afraid ‘Massa’ might appear with whip in hand,
She crouches and crawls like a frightened puppy seeking refuge;
Down the stairs she got,
With haste she runs towards the great wooden door;
Locked in chains the door was;
As the tears kept rolling down,
From the darkness she felt a gentle tap to her left shoulder,
The voice with hand whispers, “Come child”;
Led through the darkness she was,
As the hand held her tiny fingers,
Leading ever so slowly;
Suddenly she felt a coldness on her face,
Like she never known before;
Like a soothing touch,
The gentle breeze caressed her tiny cheeks,
Drying at an instant the sorrowful tears on her cheeks;
Out she was,
To freedom with the good Sir,
For little Mabel had been in captive her entire 6 years in the great Cathedral of Timblewall!!
From the Archives ~ Lorenzo Cupenzo
LORHUES 