This was written around 2002 - and was included on my book, 'The Muse Inward' and partially used in 'Boudiccea' from 'The Burning Season'...
Have I spoken of the battle between Word and Deed?
I have traveled long and wide on the hills of
When and when to step and where
Lightly and hardly
I would I might should I
Become Her at last.
But rather to write of it may heal enough.
Experience versus the mind -
I was the Queen who fell upon her sword,
In Dreams I have fought the good fight - Inert all else.
Silent in person.
My words have laid the path,
Ah, but my deeds I am most likely to be known for...
When she steps she does so delicately,
And where she steps
The grass does grow in the shape of her exquisite footsteps.
Promise is a sickness when it all but speaks and acts opposing to its word.
Pianos cannot play themselves.
I’ll slip away when at last we meet.
I am warrior...
My madness impossible to detect within the horrors of social conduct.
My wits sharpened to weaponry.
Deed cannot but make my tongue silent -
Word is an act enough to bring down effortless Tyranny.
Deed renders me inert.
We would rather the doe shot down simply in the story, I think...
Word may somehow retract Deed.
Chooses a face with strange cracks.
Ah, but Deed.
Deed is the Truth of character.