Stronger Faith

Tell me not, Sweet, I am unkind,
That from the nunnery
of thy chaste breast, and quiet mind,
To war and arms I fly.
True; a new mistress now I chase,
The first foe in the field;
And with a stronger faith embrace
A sword, a horse, a shield.
Yet this inconstancy is such,
As you too shall adore;
I could not love thee, Dear, so much,
Loved I not honour more.

“To Lucasta, Going to the Wars” Richard Lovelace



I watch her move, parrying shaft after shaft of sunlight, her assigned tasks set aside.

The sword draws her, with promises of – what? Power? Freedom? Fulfillment?

Mine, too, is a sword of promise; as it has been remade so I have been recast. But in this long life I have been many things.

She would become the sword and cast away all else. Can such a rich young life hold so little for her?

Our blades sing as one as I reach out to her. I know I cannot deflect her heart, but perhaps I may point it another way.




Great thanks to my husband Tommy, whose idea this was.