Anne Shirley to Gilbert Blythe
There are no glistening mermaids in your seas,
no sneering sirens to tempt you from me,
no soothsayers to warn you of a fated fall,
only Cupid's arrows to focus on what you saw.
There is no Guinevere in your Camelot,
just Anne with an 'e', not Lady of Shalott.
You told Josie smarts are better than looks,
but I'm not dazzlingly clever despite reading books;
for I still long for Wordsworth's old world,
for Proteus rising in waves unfurled
or Apollo's chariot fluttering with day
and Nox's dark wheels to take it away.
I long for Peter Pan to chase off Time
but in the distance Donne's foreboding bells chime
where the Captain's hook glances the bronze
and reason rings with idealism's cons.
So leave me in my dream world, Gil,
where fantasies spring from the ink of my quill.