How fair the folk
Who dwell beneath twisted branch and gentle breeze
Breathing song of deeds in ages lost to memory
Living past lives in forest shade
Beckoning to adventurers: “Come rest.
Lay your weary bones upon our beds
Drink nourishment from cup of gold and pearl
Eat well and forget the road ahead
For dark and perilous is the way
And here is merriment.”
Lost souls listen, stay, wither
While quests lie unfulfilled.
Under halls of bough and leaf
Heroes make merry while friends grow old
Homeland falls to the footnotes of memory
Valor sits unclaimed upon distant throne
Drink flows over feast tables overladen
And strength passes unnoticed from borders fair
Stolen into shadows cast by the light of ancients
Seeking the way beyond temptation
Onward.

Photo by Carlos Amarillo