I sit with you and watch you brew Nightly, potions, ale, and stew, The tale is old, the detail new, Seasoned with tears, some me, some you. I hurt, I ache, I can't believe, Others, too, great pain receive. It cannot be! I can't conceive of all the world without reprieve. And as I struggle to accept That pain's a plain, mundane concept, (Not punishment for the inept, Nor something dodged by the adept) I find it hard to comprehend You reach your hand out to a "friend" You hardly know. Yet we pretend, Play words, find Truths we can defend. We fly together, lost in the skies, - Companionship such a surprise - Onwards! Upwards! Still we rise! Laughing softly while time flies. As we conjure heavens so blue You call to you your worthy crew Standing together, though just a few, Staunch, we build the game anew.
It's sort of weird and strange sifting through the ashes of days past and coming across the old bone & the planks from all the old ships we've sailed..... Some of mine and some from you who knew this was what we'd do? where did we come from? where will it go? I do not know... and yet I was there on that road. We walked together and we sewed the threads of fate made out of gold And mythic purple blue. So many questions spring to mind So many crumbs for birds to find Only slowly can I see My mind creaks open, grudgingly A ghost ship sailing o're the Oceans Bringing eggs, fires, tea and potions *** I do not know the tales he tells My head is full of tiny bells That ring and ring and signal treasure Handed out in no mean measure I turn the stories round and round Faberge's creation to be found. Worlds of dream catch my attention What is real? Of what make mention?
For 20 years they told me "rest" They said that I was much too stressed They said that I must drink more tea And that bubble baths were good for me And to my shame I must admit It felt really good just to sit After all the years of awfulness. But in the end it made more mess. 😞 "The time is now" - I must do this "The death of hope" - much is amiss I will not rush. I will not fuss. I'll learn the tempo - breathe, not cuss 🥴 but with smooth rhythm and with rhymes I must make my days sublime I must get up off my ass And build a life that is first class And I see! Slow attrition Will beat me! So I'll stop I'll drink more tea And sit and play Then build my day Rook F8 to H8 This is great Thank you
On the table, carved in wood, An incantation, darkly stood. The stranger reads with solemn eyes, Words of power, ancient lies: "When the moon is swallowed whole, And shadows take the darkest toll, A white horse with silver shoes, Will walk at night, its path to choose, When traveler comes, a fate entwined, With dragons, death, and ingots mined." The stranger sips his poisoned draught, And waits in silence, cold and daft. For in this place of darkened lore, The traveler comes, and death walks before But now the black horse moves so slow C3 to E5, his knight in tow
In the shadows of "Potions of Ale", A stranger drinks, eyes sharp as nails. The air is thick, a rancid brew, With scents of blood and something new. The barkeep snarls, his gaze askew, He barks at guests, a foul-mouthed slew. Around the bar, the stench of rot, From spirits spilled and lives forgot. He looks for one not yet arrived, A traveler with secrets, thrice contrived. They speak of eggs that twitch and stir, Of dead men’s whispers, faint and slurred. There’s talk of farming, strange secrets kept, And of a man in black shoes who crept. She’s mentioned too, in whispers low, The one who watches where winds blow. A prophecy of dragon’s flame, A haven lost, a traveler’s name. Blackberries shroud the tale untold, In waiting, truths will soon unfold.
He set down the hide next to the traveling stand, "I told you I was your man!" The trader smiled, tipped his hat, Handed the traveller the knife. The traveller carved his mark deep and true, "Let no shadow pierce me through. Steel and stone may break and bend, But I am guarded till journey’s end." "They couldn't stab you in the back with that," The trader motioned the hide and laughed. The traveller smiled, asked for a drink— The trader stopped to think. "There's fresh water by the bar, About five miles, not that far. I go there when I need a sip And in the bar for a place to sit—" "Yet none have purchased a stick." NG6 black horse moves real quick
The cowhide was heavy and hot, Carrying that and his kettle— He wobbled in stride, Waved to the old lady and said bye. But Sue stopped him in his tracks, "Leaving without blueberries? I can't have that!” And dumped a handful in his kettle. The traveller thanked Sue and went along his way. He heard her soft words as he went away "By ember's glow and fire's breath, May you walk untouched by death. The winds will howl, the earth may quake, But none shall harm the path you take." With his kettle and hide to walk back, Took a right at the end of the blueberry patch, Walked two more miles, to be exact— Back to the trader who still had on his hat.
The trader went into great detail "Down the street, two miles exact Take a left at the blueberry patch You'll see a hut, a chimney to match". "An old lady named Sue That's where she's at Tell her I sent you— She'll know what I need." A crack of light splits the sky wide, Thunder rolls and shadows hide. So, the traveller started down the street, Two miles exact— Taking a left at the blueberry patch And was met by an old lady named Sue. The man in black shoes passed burdened by fate, His white horse strides with gentle gait, Shadows and light dance soft and faint "Good day," she said "How do you do?" "A good day indeed, Met the best craftsman in the land you see." The old lady smiled and said, "The cowhide is in the shed." The traveller nodded his head, Went to gather cowhide from the shed.
*In silence, they wonder at the vagaries of fate. Then... Under his breath he muses again, "What drives him on? This man of gold, With steady hand and eyes so cold, That cut through shadows in the night?"* *"But does he know?" the other says, "Is he one of them? Does he know what's happening in the realms of men? Of the talking, the planning, the preparing of the ground For the happenings that are coming When the magic abounds?"* Rook to F8, let's now dice with fate.
