A wand’ring minstrel played me a tune
And sang of adventures so grand
With dragons and dungeons
And treasure hoards in distant lands
His hammers dulcimer rang in the night
And a crowd gathered round to see
And to listen and hear the tale he wove
As he played out his story to me
Of swordsmen and virtue
His words echoed proud
Of wizards and magic
He sang to the crowd
Then suddenly, suddenly,
A quiet impressed
As the minstrel brought somber
A lute to his breast
His mood became quiet
And emotion’ly deep
As our hearts beat together
Our eyes fighting sleep
With a voice so gentle
He sang of a maid,
Unparalleled passion
And love ‘twas forbade
He spoke of her hair
So golden and soft
Of crystalline eyes
Lifting spirits aloft
Tenderly, carefully, his words touched her lips
Perfect and fine
They surely must be
Sweeter than heaven
A kiss of royal honey
Like describing a mountain of gold
He spoke of her soft, golden skin
It was clear in the way that he spoke
She ignited a passion within
Her eyes were like crystalline orbs
And her vision could see soul’s within
The minstrel’s voice slightly trembled
With emotion his heart held herein
He described her hands being perfect
Yet skilled at many a task
Her kiss, he imagined, was sweetwine
Not a glass, nor a bottle, but a cask!
And drunken on her mere thought
The minstrel’s eyes lighted within
His tale’s not finished, he promised
In fact he’d barely begin!
Her smile was flawless and certain
And filled with confident poise
To see her radiant beauty was
Among life’s greatest of joys
He reveled in the dream of her touch
He embraced the hope for her love
His heart echoed louder than music
And lit on the wings of a dove
The minstrel’s song spoke of walks upon beaches
Of holding hands on cold winter nights
And gentle caresses meant with passion
Illuminating darkness with their light
He spoke of how intelligent
Her gleaming eyes revealed
Intensity of passion’s powers
Which to his romantic heart appealed
She wears the face of competence
In life, in love, in truth
The kind of beauteous magnificence
Claimed most oft’ by youth
“I’m enamoured by what I see in you,
Enticed by the things you say,
A romantic sense burns inside me
Won’t you please come my way?”
As the moon begins to settle
Upon the blanket of the sky
The minstrel lay down his instrument
And whispers, now, of why
This angel is a fairy-tale
True but not for that she
Lives and walks and sees the world
Sees it all, but he
Her eyes know not of his passion
Her flesh knows not of his touch
Even though he dreams of her
She doesn’t feel as much
If she only knew his heart,
Romantically beating deep
She’d find true solace in his arms then,
Comfort enough to sleep
“Go to her, friend,” I tell him
“Let her see your soul”
For his passion strikes something inside me
Something she must surely know
“Tell her, friend, in your words,
Sing with your romantic heart,
Give to her all your feeling, friend,
‘Tis your destiny, love to impart.”
10-1-1998