Parte 1 EPISODE at ABBOTS CHASE
EPISODE at ABBOTS CHASE
Beginning with dusks end, upon which our tale now opens its turned page,
Forested hills and their misty valleys dressed in twilight shall’t be the stage.
Predators abound in this setting, some winged, many afoot, prowling about,
With one of note crouched in a high heather niche, masque’d eyes with he did scout.
Not a stone’s throw away, coaches and carriages to a country manor obediently came
Dapper Lords led shimmering ladies inside, like handsome moths, gathered to the flame.
In the candlelit courtyard of an Earls manor, these summoned quests entreat,
A lavish evening of dance, food, drink and, for some, adventures of dark intrigue
When the brisk autumn moon rises, o’er this late evening it forebodingly looms,
As a great horned owl glides in, wings beat with a noiseless swoon.
While other predators prowl, searching hungrily in the night,
This one doth settles in a courtyard tree, ending its fruitless flight.
This ancient oaken loft, just outside the manors’ courtyard, bathed in moonlite stood tall,
Reflecting in its long shadows, a second sinister figure climbing ov’r the near stone wall.
Reaching the oak, the figures grin spreads evilly ’neath his masque and tri cornered hat,
Giving the owl high above, a reason to look all about, its hungry eyes large as a tawny cat.
Now long shadows begin reaching, creeping up the walls of the stoned country estate,
Ghostly shadows in the making, inhabitants inside merrily unaware of what they create.
As the door closes on the last lady, jewels all a glimmer extinguish, tempts the hungerin fates,
While inside the house all shimmers, but outside a Lady’s destiny patiently through the hours awaits.
Two predators stand watch ov’r the rambling manor, one sneers, the other hoots a mournful call,
Unheard by the opulently attired couples still dancing, swirling majestically, within its great halls.
The predators both stiffen with interest, upon hearing a pair of side oak doors opening creak,
Then hesitantly stepping into the cool air outside, a shadow emerges, feminine, swishing and sleek.
A lady of classic beauty pauses, looking to see if her hired coach and pair still waits,
Ravishingly, she slowly sweeps down the marble stairway, downward to the courtyard gate.
Elbow length gloves, matched the satin evening gown flowing, elegantly creating an image of astound,
Our damsel slowly walked to the hired carriage, regal as the tiara she wore like a princess’s crown.
Firelight bustlingly ripples as her shapely figure enters a pool of pale moonlight,
White Diamonds sparkled and played, flickering like small lit fires into the night.
Two pairs of eyes, hidden, take notice and watch, each to its own imaginative delight,
The jewels draped upon her blazing in colorful array, beckoning out to everything in sight.
Our damsel yearningly pauses for a moment, a breathtaking portrait of elegance and style,
Catching her coachman’s indifferent eye, she willingly sends him a bewitching smile.
Reaching her carriage, he helps lift this unspoken for damsel up into an empty seat,
As the coachman placed his hands to her waist, the lady’s heart misses a definite beat.
Meanwhile, two shadowy figures, eyes sharp with interest watch, attracted by her lure,
One decides to take wing, the other stealthily follows along the shadows, with a catlike purr.
Breaching the silence, the carriage horses start clapping along the cobbled stones,
Soon leaving the safe Manor behind, the coach’s candle lamps casting out to the unknowns.
Our pretty damsel sadly nestles snug in the burgundy silks of the carriage seat,
Soon to be lulled into daydreams by the spinning wheels soothing musical beat.
Startled, she jumps, when a menacingly close shadow swiftly passes by,
Only a horned owl flying from a tree, she heaves a long heart surging sigh.
Now, while watching the owl, looking up into the evenings dark velvet sky,
The late mourning star stands out, its twinkle catching her soft hazel eyes.
As the rocking carriage, her hair gently swishes, she smiles, for the wish she has made in fun.
But want for the embrace of a man, upon the star, she hopefully desires it be done,
As her journey continues, within her heart lays a wish with heavy a burning,
Her soft eyes close, once again, winced in the sharp pains of her yearning.
A charming man to touch her, whose fingers gently kindle her romantic fire,
In this man’s soul, for her love only, would be his upmost deepest desire.
Looking up at the high seat where her tall brawny coachman rides,
Named Devin of Costners Mill, a chap quite handsome, muscular and full of pride.
Thinking woefully to herself, how his tight embrace could certainly please,
Her uneasy longings prickle with the delicious thought, alerted with her tease.
As her mind ponders, our damsel’s wish travels to the mourning star in the sky,
It just misses the horned owl, as it continues flying on obliviously by.
The creature wings ahead, gliding silently into a misty hollow hailed Abbots Chase,
Even through this particular proud predator’s eyes, a quite forbidding darkened place.
Coming to roost in an old oak tree, the owl listens into the shadows below,
A gypsy wind comes up, ruffling the feathers of this sentinel watching slow.
A ribbonous dark stream below gurgles its lonesome song in eerie ease,
Aside this stream another’s vigil is finally broken, welcoming sounds riding the breeze.
A carriage appears on the abbot’s hills crest, its wheels making the noise, a clear scent,
Masque eyes opening wide, with keen interest he waits, his trap all set with evil intent.
The highwayman kneels next to a bridge, waiting, evil heart beating rapid and steady,
From a black scabbard his wicked silvery sword is soundlessly pulled, held at the ready.
Carriage man Devon , his thoughts on himself, not with the lady in his dispassionate charge,
While the lady ,his doting pretty passenger , is wrestling with her emotions at large.
Hidden within the swaying coach, our traveler with gloved hand ,holds a handle tight,
Well ringed fingers clench, as she mentally grapples with her seemingly endless plight.
Her longish fawn hair, softly framing an enticingly enchanting face,
Touch of a smile, her soft hazel eyes trapped in a faraway romantic place,
Like her diamond necklace tapping her laced bosom with the carriages swaying pace,
Our concealed Damsel is a colorful rhapsody of charm, elegance and elusive grace.
Carriage abruptly lurches, reality checks, hand goes to her chest, flashy bracelet glinting,
Looking out the window, clouded sky, her eyes, with tears of sorrows, squinting
Watching as the shadows continue their passing dance along the tree lined lane,
All of her romantic fantasies have fleeted, unfulfilled desires once again hold painful reign.
Shifting her with uneasy position as her coach begins a roll down into a hollow,
She is unaware of the hungry eyes from below, that sinisterly watch and follow.
The owl and the highwayman, by a bridge at ready attention, scenting likely quarry,
As the coach approaches that bridge, it’s fore coming detention will spice the story.