The Raven And The Rose

 The prince and the girl had quarreled. 

He sat disconsolately on a byway bench.  My, what a handsome prince he was! Long of limb he was, and dressed in casual elegance, which he thought was just normal. He sat so long that he was beginning to let the anger drift away into the air.  In fact, he was sleepy, and as he was a young fit fellow, sleep came easily, even with a broken heart.  The blood-red roses he carried fell away into the street.  Some were trampled on by passing citizens, children, and horses. He slept on.

She, in her little tower, had ceased crying.  Her face was somewhat red, and teary.  She was no princess.  She was a rather spoiled girl-child nearing marriageable age.  At this point in her life, she looked like a rather pretty young fish-wife, touseled and damp, but adorable. She was not locked into the tower.  Her dad and mum just happened to live in a little stone tower with lots of windows on all three floors.  So, of course, she did also.

Feeling petulant and wronged she had sequestered herself on the top floor and was gazing blearily out of a window facing the common street. She felt as if all the happiness of recent days had died and with it all her hopes.

A very large and majestic Raven sat nearby, like an omen, observing the two of them, for they were not very far apart.  Ravens are very wise in the ways of all sorts of mankind, for they are always watching and listening to our foolishness, and the mismatching of fortunes in love and business. They are also nosy.  She flew down near the bench.

In very Raven-like sideways hops, she approached the prince's bench.  She observed that he was totally out of it for the moment.  She poked around in the sullied bouquet of bloody colored roses and found a perfect one, seized it in her large black beak, and flew into the sky.

She flew to the open window where the sad girl looked out.  Landing on the stone ledge, she offered the rose to the girl and then spoke.  While the girl was holding the rose, Raven said "Go to him now.  He is only sleeping on that bench just down the street.  You have been a fool and you must mend your foolishness for your sake and his."

Running down all the stairs in the little tower and out into the street, she saw him there just a bit down the block.

As you can imagine, once she had awakened him, and he had gotten over his astonishment, there was a heartfelt conversation in which first she and then he confessed to pettiness and lack of generosity, and they laid bare their hearts to each other.  They sat together beside the trampled roses and held the one perfect rose between them, and all was well.

From high up in a convenient tree the observant Raven sat watching in inscrutable approval, with glittering black eyes.  Then she flew away to where it was her own business to fly!

Of course, this eerie song by Tom Waits is only barely appropriate, but I thought the tone of it a good fit.