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The Dream: Make Sure You _all_ read this
The recent hot flashes of angered words at The "Merry" Rose Tavern at
Cheapside, usually quite friendly inspired the following poem/song out of me.
Sing it to any tune you so wish. It is not completly in medieval form but
the meaning is still there and I hope everyone shall see it. Just for
posterity, Don't take this and say you wrote it and should you forward it,
give the credit where it's due.
-Cecely the Wanderer <If there is too much wind in the willows,
Stand under the oaks.>
The knights fought on the fields
The ladies upheld the lovely
The children sang and played
The bards, they made their art in words
For what we called
A brawl started in the tavern
By one man scorned
And reproached by an angered patron.
Everyone had to have their say
The angry words, to and fro
For far too many a day
Where is this Dream,
That was so fragile
So easily broken in fair Atlantia?
For those who found acceptance,
That they had found nowhere else
For those who found some light,
In what they felt a darkened life.
A young maid, who had before,
Hidden in the shadows of the tavern,
Save to offer a jest and a laugh
Wanders out into the open
And sings her questioning song.
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