Tuesday, May 26, 2009

The Bard

Come hither and pray do,
A story of bygone days and partings of morning dews,
Kings of old and a long forsaken truce,
Alas tis true, on the fair banks of Glastonbury,
Where the morning sun meets with the earth,
The Mary and Michael lines that give us birth,
Alas, Hail Her Eden eyes were of stars,
The kind that fills with enlightened fire burning for hours,
Lighting up halls and seizing men’s hearts,
Stronger than ten thousand swords and tears walls apart,
Destruction of barriers in the courts and unbound by words,
The Innocent truth hides behind those flames,
Kindling Bygone days and parting ways,
All the wretchedness and false pretenses his eyes were masterful& demeaning,
Creatures that are crude that goes on squabbling & bleating,
She knows, yes she knows
On the foothills trodden from morning till dusk,
That bitter expressions of truism and anarchy she mustn’t touch,
She knows of the forbidden fruit so she treks on.
She found herself weary and dreary at a stony brook that hugged the path. It had begun to rain but the tree revealed its protection so she could have rest. The Glastonbury Tower was aloof atop of the hill.Her eyes were heavy and she just curled up under the trunk. No one would come looking for her and so she slept. She began to have vivid dreams that were long and bountiful.
Time elapsed for an hour when a man appeared on the road. He drew nearer, not paying heed to the weather, singing lightly in the rain. When he reached the brook, he saw the little maiden under the tree wondering if she was okay. Upon further inspection he took note she was alseep,
but he wanted to get her out of the rain. ( to be continued)

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