Destined Bower (Part II): The Power of the Wood

'Sun's demise is sumptuous,' you whisper in the twilight,
Pensive and warm, seeking me with your Light.
I watch silent somber from the vantage of my bower
Wrapped in ancient verdure and veils of soothing Power.

Caressed by my Will, you smile absent-minded,
But continue your ode to the horizon now blinded.
Still warmed by the presence of my heartful sad gaze
You dance softly humming, awareness in daze.

It is then that my hawk intrudes 'pon mine attentions
To bid me observe Their stealthy machinations.
I curse my ill caution, my temperance unmoored,
And cry 'My Lady, beware!' cross our hearts' loving Cord.

Your Working is quick, and about yourself weave
A camouflage of spirit like a shadow midst the eve.
Befuddled, bewildered, at this unexpected might
The Darkness scents keen to scry out your Light.

But your wits are uncanny, your form full of grace,
You speed from harms way with preternatural pace.
Alas! without thought you flee toward the tower,
To your childhood home and your guardian dour.

They sense soon I will come to you, knowing you steady,
Fearing Our converse and Our soulbond at the ready.
Thus They claw to destroy you, unmake Our great passion,
To curse me to sorrow, and death as well in a fashion.

Hence no more safe harbor from your guardian depend,
His mortal presence and wards will They feral end.
Hastily am I pressed to rouse an answering might,
And sudden prepare for Our long waited union this night.

Dear Lady, to vouchsafe your flight I Darkness now engage,
Rousing forth weapons of woven breath and bonfire rage.
I waken my wood-dwellers and their somnambulistic power,
Trenchant roots and calming streams welcoming you to Our bower!