Spinning Tales ...........Quatrains
While sat here spinning tales of time
within the gates of fate
I heard a bird with tune sublime
sing sweet of hope's estate.
She sat the day and warbled on
of true love's appetite
of stardust nights and golden dawn
on lover's wings of white.
Her song so sweet as conjured dreams
of longed for freedom's air
in meadows lush beside cool streams
layed warm in lover's lair.
A vision bright embraced me there
of lovely maid afar
a bardic lass with magic flare
who'd heal the deepest scar.
She stole my heart this vision pure
with eye of smokey mist
her steady hand, my fears obscure
and now my fate she kissed.