This Is An Entry for This Weeks Picture it and Write
Please see Ermilia’s Blog at the Link Below for all contributions and details of the event
“Anne Boleyn was rather tall of stature, with black hair and an oval face of sallow complexion, as if troubled with jaundice. She had a projecting tooth under the upper lip, and on her right hand, six fingers. There was a large wen under her chin, and therefore to hide its ugliness, she wore a high dress covering her throat.” – Nicholas Sander “The Rise and Growth of the Anglican Schism”.
Is she beauty?
Or is she beast?
The one who stole his heart
Her soul as dark as her veil
Yet her voice as sweet as a lark
Henry the VIII second wife
The one who bewitched the King
A mystery never to be solved
The mystery of Anne Boleyn
This is my contribution to ‘picture it and write’ this week at http://ermiliablog.wordpress.com/category/picture-it-write/.
Years ago he told her she had enchanted him, but he didn’t realize how true that was. He was a car mechanic and she plotted for his service one balmy midsummer afternoon. She knew he was passing by on his way home from the garage he worked at in her local town. At 4.30pm she parked the car at the side of the road, lifted the boot, loosened a plug and waited. She knew what she wanted and was out to get it, come what may. She also knew he had an eye for the ladies and they all had an eye for him. She had her heart, mind and soul set on him and he was bewitched by her beauty and he became hers by the fall of the sun and the rising of the full moon. He was her destiny and she would own him.
She vowed she would keep him forever and no one else would have him. She had a way of getting what she wanted from being a small child. Things happened for her in just a whisper and a wish. Now and again she had visions, premonitions of sorts.
She saw a young girl very much like herself luring her man away. She saw him park his car at the side of the field and make his way to meet her. Now was time to use the gift that had been passed down from generation to generation of women in the family. Her mother told her some were stoned and burnt at the stake for the gift that was used to win their men and their status in the country at the time. Today that would not happen as no one believed in witches these days. They believed in fate and destiny. She believed he was her destiny.
She whistled up a witches wind to carry the crows to her man. She whispered to the crows in the wind. ‘’chase him back to me, for I am his destiny and he is mine’’.
He never met the girl in the field, because the crows carried him back to her in the witches wind. She owned him now and she was his Mistress forever. He was reminded of that with every gust of wind and every cackle of a crow.