By the light of the moon,
\nOn a cool, cool night,
\nYoung Johnny Locke took a walk
\nDown to the old lake.<\/p>\n
He’d not far to go
\nWhen his eyes caught a flash.
\nA glimpse of a maiden’s face,
\nHer hair flowing down her back.<\/p>\n
He paused his late night venture
\nAnd puzzled, “Have my eyes deceived me?
\n“What maiden would brave the forest
\nAt a time such as this?”<\/p>\n
Young Johnny shook his head.
\nSurely he’d imagined it.
\nHe continued on, in no mood
\nTo worry about such things.<\/p>\n
He soon came to the water’s edge
\nAnd set himself on the sand.
\nNo particular reason to be there,
\nJust enjoying the calm of the night.<\/p>\n
T’was then that he saw that maiden once more,
\nWalking not far from where he sat.
\nHe rose to his feet quickly, startled,
\nAnd watched as she came to a stop.<\/p>\n
She stared up at the moon, the gentle breeze
\nWrapping her locks about her face.
\nShe stood like a goddess, her beauty unbridled,
\nHer presence beyond mortal reach.<\/p>\n
A rustle nearby and Young Johnny turned
\nAs one by one more fair maidens appeared.
\nThey too like goddesses walked
\nDown to she at the water’s edge.<\/p>\n
He tucked himself behind a tree,
\nAway from the light of the moon.
\nHe looked on as the goddesses
\nFormed a wide circle.<\/p>\n
Their bodies began to sway
\nTo what tune, he could not tell.
\nYoung Johnny Locke from his hiding place watched
\nAs the maidens began to dance.<\/p>\n
They raised their arms to the heavens
\nThen slowly brought them to hang at their sides.
\nThey took a step towards their center,
\nTheir eyes watching the skies.<\/p>\n
They continued to move with such grace, such beauty,
\nThat Young Johnny couldn’t tear his eyes away.
\nIt was entrancing, their movements across the sand,
\nAnd he could feel the world around him slipping away.<\/p>\n
A sudden jolt as the ground rose to meet him.
\nHad he somehow fallen asleep?
\nHe looked around, trying to get his bearings,
\nAnd was surprised to find the sun slowly rising.<\/p>\n
He turned back to the lake.
\nWere they still there?
\nBut much to his dismay
\nThe shoreline held no occupants.<\/p>\n
Young Johnny Locke found his way home
\nAll the way puzzling how it could have been so.
\nHow could he have missed them? When had they left?
\nHe tried to recall the last thing that he saw.<\/p>\n
Maidens dancing on the shore,
\nWas that really all he could remember?
\nThere had to be something.
\nThere had to be more.<\/p>\n
Home at last he was surprised to find
\nThe villagers, his neighbors, all gathered ’round.
\nUpon seeing him his mother cried out.
\nShe dropped the spoon in her hand and ran to embrace him.<\/p>\n
She scolded him for sneaking out
\nFor putting her into such a fit.
\nHe tried to explain, to tell her what happened,
\nOf the lake and it’s dancing maidens.<\/p>\n
No one would listen,
\nThey thought him to be ill.
\nHe tried and he tried
\nBut it was just no good.<\/p>\n
As the excitement died down
\nAnd the villagers returned to their homes,
\nAn elderly gentleman approached him,
\nAnd asked, “You’ve seen them, too?”<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
By the light of the moon, On a cool, cool night, Young Johnny Locke took a walk Down to the old lake. He’d not far to go When his eyes caught a flash. A glimpse of a maiden’s face, Her hair flowing down her back….<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1102,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[7],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-37945","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-marathon-poem"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/37945","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1102"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=37945"}],"version-history":[{"count":5,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/37945\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":89701,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/37945\/revisions\/89701"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=37945"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=37945"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=37945"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}