Et Portæ Inferi Non Valebit
(And the gates of hell will not prevail)
Gates of Hell shall never ever prevail
promulgation of Truth forever stands
Soul and Spirit each rings a sounding bell
Fate's ruthless results judges all the lands
Vanities of all men foolishly praised
Spirit's dark desires bearing bitter fruit
Rejection of He that was truly raised
lies and corruption are the stolen loot
Righteous hearts look to Heavenly skies
sincere prayers, deliver such bless reward
Mankind races onward using blinded eyes
to an ending very bitter and hard
In the dark shadow of this evil world
Our Creator's redemption has been hurled!
Robert J. Lindley, 10-11-2014
Syllables Per Line: 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10
Total # Syllables: 140
Total # Lines: 17 (Including empty lines)
Total # Words: 93
This place, inside, where all my feelings keep.
That lies somewhere between my heart and soul.
Should I, the guardian of my fortress seek,
Protection from those, who would see them stole.
So many times have you this bastion breeched,
With scant regard for all the dangers posed.
That my hopes and dreams should not be reached,
By eyes that only wish my heart exposed.
These inmates with their liberty restrained.
That strive against their shackles and their chains.
Am I their jailor too cautious to be blamed,
To free them no matter what their claims.
And if freeing them should reveal my heart,
I might be also freed.. my life to start
A Mere Pile Of Bones
Sitting here dejected, mere pile of bones
pleasure, just a memory in the dark past
Stripped of every lie one polishes and hones
facing this truth, nothing can forever last!
Stark, reality of deeds soaked in slime
pain, a racing bird sent to torture me
Memories, stones in the honeyed ring of time
everything costs so dearly, nothing is free!
Evil are the chains wrapping my crushed Soul
Time, a sword cutting so deeply my heart
fled pleasure of any future winning goal
sudden truth is ripping rest of me apart!
This pile of bones, only treasure I have got
smelling this meat even after a slow rot!
Robert J. Lindley, 08 -30-2014
Sonnet rewritten this morn. Originally it was a
twenty verse poem. I saw and thought rewriting
it into a sonnet would be much better.
To see the face of earth through angels’ eyes
To lie afloat on cotton clouds ‘neath the skies
And hear noth but the whistling of winds
Which encircle me like soft feathered wings
Too long these feet of lead have held to ground
On stone and porous clay abound
While my spirit yearns to ascend the heights
My bucket list consists of one sky jump flight
To soar the blue skies o’er land and sea
And fly solo as a bird, keen and care free
Where noise and din then become dearth
While my eyes feast on the radiant colors of earth
And as fields of golden wheat sway to and fro
I softly land on mounds of hay below
Where were you when my world fell apart?
The Sun darkened and the Moon just fled.
All had been done and all had been said.
And ripped to shreds was my beating heart.
Even the Seas began to part.
And the Mountain tops spread.
I lay there completely dead.
Even the Stars I could not chart.
If only you knew,
If only you were there,
If only you had a clue!
If only life had been fair!
I’d turn the clocks back,
Still standing dead in my track!
Truth that is masked by the heart of a man
Can only explain the start of a lie
A lie so heavy, it spits on your plan
Left with emptiness, your soul on crows fly
Lost while still young, forgotten by the path
Living with shame, that no longer gives pain
Held at the throat by the questions wrath
How dark was made, that ignorant stain
Now you delve into knowledge left by the wise
In order to uncover a truth that was hidden
Burdened with sorrow whilst the nurser cries
Hindered by usurpers who have want of no lesson
Hold on to the railing, prepare a strong mind
For never you know what's out there to find
A Wonderful Day Afishin'
A wonderful day fishing, frying fish in the pan
logs sweetly burning, smokey smells of delight
Lake nearly perfect , a pond in God's opened hand
feast soon to start a beautiful camping night!
That monster fish that easily broke your rod tip
set a memory to be recalled decades from now
As recollections in old age our minds eagerly dip
mental pictures the where , when , why and how!
This night shall hold us in a very deep embrace
join me in a toast to a future so fine and sweet
Singing of happiness , joy and your smiling face
memories, good times, wine and fish to eat!
A wonderful day fishing, so very hard to beat
Nature's offering, magnificent trout to eat!
June -09- 1978
Robert J. Lindley
I wrote this decades ago. My fishing partner was a fine
lady that I almost married! Sadly she passed away back in
May of 2005... She had married and had a grown daughter
in college. I hadn't had contact with her in well over
22 years. Still it was a sad day for me upon
learning of her death...
I'll be what I must be, in spite of me
as life won't always give the things I choose
and so I have to make what has to be
into the things my life and I can use.
All roads don't lead to Rome, as it's been said,
but some to Paris, and a little fun,
so I will change the path where I would dread
to go to where I choose, when I am done.
I'll not be forced into a better scheme
if I can't see the end result my way
if it's not part of what my heart can dream
it never will come to the light of day.
All things can change, if I have any voice
in what they are, and I will make the choice.
© ron wilson aka vee bdosa the doylestown poet
You were the other side of me.
Like two rivers, joined up in a storm,
forging through our unknown landscapes
full of nature, but with purpose.
Learning, wandering and giving birth to new things.
Leveraging all that passed through our hands.
Until we became separated.
Hardship, mistakes divided our vast landscape
back into two, and we returned, to me and to you.
But we are still connected, I can see you
and you can see me, as part of everything that we do.
Forever and ever, our two rivers will run through…
Until we have travelled down to our next bend,
where we might flow back together again.
Preferred by those that know of nothing fair.
Destroyed by sand that blows through consciousness.
Existing in a vacuum of despair.
I left that world behind I must confess.
The wheels of hope extinguished memories.
With every mile clouds would drift away.
Until the devil's valley and disease.
Were lost in natures brilliant grand foyer.
Rejoice, the mountains, rivers of my home.
Forsaken once so young and long ago.
The years have swallowed up the urge to roam.
And age has brought the need to take it slow.
Thoughts now have left me of that evil land.
Here God and nature hold me in their hand.
Tainui - that great waka in the sky,
Into the far orbits and blue concaves:
Its Koru and steel gas turbines so high
At altitude above the planet waves.
And on its metallic longrider wing
I gazed the sea and stars, the clouds, the sun...
No man has seen a more glorious thing
Nor behoved a greater journey begun!
For I was lost to the hubris of men,
To my fits of rage and ravage of woe:
To devils on Earth and God in Heaven
Till the last flight from desolation row.
Thus here I am a longrider who flew
On the wings of Tainui back to you.
Tainui is the name of an Air New Zealand plane.
It is also the name of a Maori tribe.
Waka is a Maori war canoe.
Koru is the iconic NZ symbol on the tail of all its
Airplanes. It symbolises new life, growth, peace,
I'm tired of you becoming just words,
On every page when I write at night.
I saw you as a pretty face at first;
I wouldn't mind if my ink pen dried.
I say it because you're a human being;
These situations are not my type.
I want "I love you" to mean something,
And you stay right by my side.
Honestly, when I write poetry,
The feeling is unconfirmed, undecided, undefined.
You are worth more to me
Than words written down on every line.
I'd prefer to have you in my arms;
Paper and pen will not tear us apart.
©2013 Honestly JT
For P.D.' s "Any Poem Goes #6" Poetry Contest
Young love bird wounded during your flight
Worried now where your companion landed
You sing a beautiful song, but still no sight
Certainly now he must have gotten stranded
The magical serenade continues to no avail
Some concern now for your own well being
This winter flight treacherous you feel frail
The singing stops, you are hardly breathing
One pilgrimage not completed you feel pain
Some guilt overtakes when you start to heal
The flying before your partner was it in vain
Or is there.a bird needing your singing still
Bird of flight your journey is still not done
Heal now, continue to fly for the other one
Penned by Wayland Bunch 2/12/2013
The dam has broken, fear has poured gushing
Oh! Great Physician ruler of the angels
Send the mighty healing army flying
On strong wings of love, comfort counsels
Open the Word and the Spirit speak plain
Don't go around and round the mountain high
Move forward child to another level attain
On the wings of those angels now fly
On the journey may you always find another
To share a light on the worn path of life
A person who stays in step with you and sings
This your life may it be one of wealth and no strife
Protected by the angel of mercy__love
May your journey be seasoned from above
Creative Native, quite contemplative-
he draws on walls in ancient caves.
So Hieroglyphic speculative:
Cuneiform curses mark mummy graves.
On land the sand, the grains of Man-
exoplated, protective shells.
A last ballast, we're sinking fast;
step lively men, and hoist the sails!
The Tribe has grown and it has thrived-
(their drumbeats echo as if alive!)
We've lost our rudder, I wince and shudder,
and I have lost all will and drive...
No longer fond of the Amazon-
Jungle be damned; I wish 'twere gone!
Away the land of the Flame Tree blossoms,
Orient blown athwart a yellow moon:
To hearken the far sound of dragon drums
And ride a Phantom into old Kowloon!
To Salisbury Road "Peninsula" doors
Where the trading ships its waters journey:
Where long ago waged the Opium Wars
And Britannia ruled the South China Sea.
Now a new tale of skirmish is retold
When two foes battled on a foreign field:
But beware the armies in Green and Gold
In the World Cup when Blackhearts choke and yield!
'Twas Sun Tzu in the art of war who taught
Every battle is won before it's fought.
Armies of Green and Gold are the Australian
Rugby Team and their supporters.
The Blackhearts are the New Zealand team -
The "All Blacks".
Wrote this on a rugby trip to Hong Kong
Where the two teams clashed.
The First Voyage of Paul
A sailing ship, out aimless on the sea
forewarned by Paul--to sail would be a crime,
but captain said "you're safe now--you're with me"
he vowed their trip to Rome would be on time.
And so they set about to sail the main,
not caring that the Fast had well begun--
nor that no sailing man could see a gain,
for such a trip would fail--before it's done.
The captain caused the crew to set their plight
towards a Cyprus port--for needed rest,
when all at once the day turned into night--
and then the wind of God made life a test.
The temptest blew for days--to Malta's shore
and set the will of God--forevermore.
© ron wilson aka vee bdosa the doylestown poet
I Wrote Just For You
I wrote a song for you my precious life
four years courtship and now my wife
Your love and spirit now sweetly sings
removing the former pains and deepened stings
I wrote a poem for you my sweetest love
ten years together my little coo'ing dove
Your gentleness and ardor still inspires
the flames to leap in renewed heart's fires
I wrote a letter to be delivered some day
after life ceases , my spirit can not stay
Your treasure you so joyously gave to me
I will be waiting under Heaven's great tree
Heaven's fold holds a place for your spirit
sings a very special song for you, can you hear it
Robert J. Lindley , 07-10-2014
Dedicated to my wife, my life and all she inspires
and does for me every second of every day..
Charm has a sure say in this journey far;
Here we go again to see fine China;
Intent funds the way to find a sure star;
Note mountains and plains with clear agenda.
A trip deeper still to meet inner sights;
Touch can discern more as new frontiers greet;
Rise to sensuous thrills that come with sure flight;
Images to store as wonder finds streets.
Picture fond ideas that spring realms unseen;
Choice dazzles the way to unknown landscapes;
Allow fancy near to flower within;
Let new yarns portray myriad forms and shapes.
Look closer and coast the travels that span;
Sounds and sights that toast to a witness friend.
17 May 2014
For far shires beyond the western sun
I'm leaving the Land of the Long White Cloud:
To journey across the blue horizon -
Shaky Isles to ancient continent proud!
To start anew a kindred colony
Leaving volcanic ash for desert dust,
Shepherd dales for rainforest canopy
And cold slicing wind for long summer gust.
Leaving a world where reality bites
For the Dreamtime People's great southern land!
Outback bushies and cork hat urbanites
In the convict Land of the Long White Sand.
Now the Sunshine Coast is the life for me
In palisades and canals by the sea.
Leaving New Zealand to live in Australia.
Aye but my love for you full of wonder
Sighting your face, my heart full of thunder
Your skin feels like mine, more tender and thin
Your eyes my surprise, love journey begins
My mind deceives, what my senses behold
Each time I touch you, a story unfolds
Lightning strikes, expectations unforeseen
For you in the flesh outstripping my dreams
Strange it would seem, I see only your smile
As the words from your lips, journey a while
Mesmerized beauty, is all I can see
Anesthetized wonder, blinds like the bee
Joy in your presence confounding my style
Love it keeps pounding my heart like a child
I ran through the forest,
Looking for a sign,
Searching for the closest,
The closest one to find.
I walked across the desert,
Looking for a shady place,
With no one to alert
Me, to tell me i would never find a trace.
I swam across the ocean,
Looking for a piece of land,
Land that didn't follow the ocean's motion,
Swimming harder than I ever ran.
In the end, I didn't find that sign, or that shady place, or that land in the sea.
Instead, I found all three.
In these, our final days before the end,
come in a moment, faster than the eye,
'tis easy to believe, and comprehend
what lies beyond the end, is not to die;
We'll go as one, together to the last,
a world snuffed out, by something closing in,
that's been ten billion years, and coming fast
but we won't see it coming until then;
the speed it flies is something out of dreams,
much faster than a thought, it will be there,
and what we see won't be just what it seems
until the last, we'll see it everywhere.
In this, the end, out of necessity
we'll all believe, then we'll be history.
© ron wilson aka vee bdosa the doylestown poet
Slowly backs away the shadow that looms the morning
Fallen leaves gleams the ground, a new beginning.
The world went still, racking noises from inside subsided
Damp breeze feels like romantic dill, then and now collided.
Lull away into the afternoon chills, make no such haste
The whispers of the rustling leaves, slows the pace.
Familiar aroma fills the air of joyful childhood years
Be taken past traverse with the melody of holiday cheers.
Warm and cozy into the night, gaze at the skies with awe
Of glimmering stars adorns the view, and the moon’s afterglow.
Delight into the zenith of the enchanting midnight chime
And the wind’s murmurs, akin to frozen tales of time.
Passions renew, snuggle safe into the love’s sweet embrace
With a clean slate, this wistful season departs with glaze.
© Arabelle Sanchez-Grospe 0823014
Ahhh, Those Sexy Southern Gals
A write for such a very fine night
echoes drifted in as day lost light
Whispers of former days with sweet gals
partying with my old longtime pals!
Thoughts of future days so far away
living each minute no thought to pay
Life, love and fortune always to be had
we that raced about quite crazy and bad!
Thrills of love lost in it's sad stings
pretty gals angling for a wedding ring
Memories of so many pretty eyes and faces
sexy girls, sexy legs and pretty laces!
Wild were the times of we Southern boys
gone are the days of guns, cars and those sweet ,fast toys....
Robert J. Lindley 07-15-2014
A wild youth remembered by a now very settled old man...
note: "toys" has a double meaning..
Pisces, The Fish, Living Waters
Swimming in cool blue waters so deep
rainbow fish , so pretty the stars weep
Oceans filled with great hope and pride
on celestial waves greatness takes a ride
Constellations shining brightly to see
lights glowing in the past and future be
A sign to speed life on it's merry way
guiding our spirits into a future day
Neptune stands his mighty waters so well
holding back the monsters from deepest hell
Comets bring in the joy of desperate relief
washing away anguished pains of epic grief
In a bright galaxy so very far, far away
Seas of life exist, love and sweetly play
Robert J. Lindley, 07-12-2014
Sponsor Leonora Galinta
Contest Name , Poem with a Theme: Zodiac Sign
Prepare for a journey and prepare well,
Because this journey will last a long time.
When done, you will have a story to tell
With a straight tongue or maybe with a rhyme.
Remember to put your best foot forward,
So you can go as far as you can get,
As you proceed to navigate toward
The goals that were originally set.
When you come to the crossroads watch for cars;
With so much relying on that first step,
You can not afford to record more scars,
Since the specialist needs more time to prep.
Whatever you do, do the best you can,
And that comes from your friend "The Sonnet Man."
A Love Filled Dwelling
I sent my love to your waiting heart
with hopes we live and never part
You sang back such sweet replies
banishing dark clouds from my skies
I sent my great worries and cares
we cried , lets climb those stairs
Up we went into a love entwined cloud
no dire problems or worries allowed
You sent hope and glory into my life
promises of faithful love as my wife
You then made our romance a blessed joy
gifting us our treasure, our little boy
Never darling, shall I ever dare to forget
shared paradise came because you, you are the best
Robert. J. Lindley , 07-25-2014
Sponsor, Regina Riddle
note: pure truth in the telling,
my wife made our lives/family into a flowing paradise ,
in a LOVE FILLED HEAVEN we are now dwelling...
Catholic Mass in Porto
Sunday evening in Porto my wife went to mass while I sat in
the park opposite admiring the grand architecture built in
honour of a God. Got restless and walked into the church to
see what was going on. It was a titanic church with a roof
that stretched all the way to heaven and possible beyond.
Although the congregation was of three hundred people
it seemed almost empty. Benches made of hard wood and
behind each bench a wooden cross- bar to lean ones knees
on, and since the worshippers were doing that I went down
on my knees too and for a moment felt quite humble.
There is in the Christian Religion much written about agony
it seems to be a part of the faith since Jesus died a slow death
on the cross; nevertheless I was glad when the parishioners
arose, and uplifted we all walked into the summer evening.
Youthful Transgressions, Rejudged
Let God judge my past wicked ways
cast stale food from dirty trays
So much molded bread happily ate
a leper in a rich famishing fate
Let my Soul eat out of my heart
pray love and spirit never part
To many deeds born of living hell
some so bad I shall never tell
Let my Life venture a fine course
consider deep regrets my source
To little care embraced in youth
memories steeped in wishful truth
Let Fate render a verdict so fair
Pray love gifts a verdict to share
Robert J. Lindley, 08-13-2014
note: A man can not undue his past,
mistakes deep ever seem to last,
hurtful are those lost loves,
wicked tears tarnishing golden memory gloves....
AFLIGHT IN THE HALE-BOB
The puzzle comes apart deep in the sky;
calls nothing that is concrete to the mind;
as far as we can tell and meets the eye
the reason for the tail's not ours to find.
We stand confused, and only guess at why
the wonder of it all has stilled our voice
did David Korish ever really die?
and is it all worked out, with little choice?
Mount Carmel but a coming of an age
the catostrophic ending of mistake,
what hope is there to ever quell the rage
appeassing what is wrong, for honors sake?
Is there a sign that's ever flown the sky
or is it just a dream where-in we die?
© ron wilson aka Vee Bdosa the Doylestown Poet
'Twas on caravel five centuries ago,
On third voyage a Queen's fleet sailed south-west:
And the red horizon shone a great glow
Upon Columbus in flat ocean quest.
Into island passage beyond gulf trail,
Through Boca del Dragon on landing wave
Led the Genoan's flagship under sail -
Safe travelled and spared a jagged reef's grave!
"Ahoy, far Indies!", land of sun and realm:
"Isla de la Trinidad" would claim he -
That virgin New World, that far crossing helm,
And by Spanish warrant, its territory.
In a mariner's tale there's one true love:
Mainsail on the wind - Hesperus above.
Trinidad and Tobago.
(Dedication: For my niece, Joan Chong)
Pleasant feelings surge in pretty ideas;
Obscure panache seeps in artwork design;
Sensuous driven purge of mind forms fit here;
Touch of purpose deep as artifacts mime.
Choice of abstract art in fluid emotion;
Align round sure text with sublime hinting;
Rough edges now start to merge with passion;
Drawings that hurl next feel after filling.
Display moments sharp when movement collides;
Etchings in grey scale that allude bold spills;
Such pregnant art harps upon thoughts that stride;
Indulgence tells tales in magic that thrills.
Gifts of transcendence in mortal careers;
Now change sparks cadence in outcomes right here.
08 May 2014
(Note: This poem is an Acrostic Sonnet.)
Hold On Tightly
Let your life fill others with jubilant cheer
do not stand apart , bring others near
Sing out sweet love of life for all to see
share your gift by growing a kindness tree
As each morn stirs vibrant heart to please
give of self with love as the beautiful key
Seek out those needing a soft helping hand
dance to the joyous music of a mercy band
As days and nights rush into eternity's cup
drink of compassion , drink right on up
Let your path sing a helping blissful tune
time awaits no man, flying by far too soon
Let love and kindness be your beautiful guide
hold on tightly, such acts gift a rip roaring ride
07/ 27/ 2014
Wondrous Words From Gifted Pens
Wondrous words flow from gifted pen
beautiful gifts from poetic hearts
A dear wish for such to never end
generous blessings that such words impart
A moment, a prayer to cast forth joy
a great crusade to help one and all
A pen well inked and ready to employ
thoughts of the soul both big and small
Poets astound and live, live to write
a lazy pen they must so often fight
Such is the trials of generous offers
drawn from spirits in poetic coffers!
Inspiration , heart , reason and rhyme
Often fight the brevity of needed time!
Robert J. Lindley 06-29-2014
A humble tribute to wonderful poets here and everywhere!
I am very pleased to offer this tribute to all poets and dedicate it to
four very special friends I have made here that have so greatly helped and
inspired me here!
Elly Wouterse, Peter and Vera Duggan and Carolyn Devonshire..... a special thanks and gift.
(Dedication: For Zhou Junchen, Joseph
-- Our Chinese tour guide in Yunnan, who
took us on an amazing journey, with
kindness and great patience.)
Yield to memories in pictures we take;
Urge strange new cultures to shape experience;
Note quaint history as old puzzles make;
Notice thought nurture both real and transience.
Align fine vistas with place, sights and sounds;
Nimble a short while and relish the feel.
See tour agenda in places new found;
Touch-taste, sense and style deep longing that heals;
Opt to embrace each panoramic view;
Prime your own pleasure with insights that surge;
Open heart can reach soul pleasure that cues;
Voice sparks fond treasure as beauty primes urge.
Enjoy your fine stay in moments that come;
Reap beyond mere play fond feelings that sum.
27 May 2014
Kunming, China transit;
(Note: This is an Acrostic Sonnet.)
The Old Straight Track climbs up towards the ridge,
A tangent to this ancient burial ground
Where Bronze Age bodies slumber under mounds;
In number, nine, each barrow with a ditch.
Who were these folk that lie beneath this field –
Hunter-gatherer, warrior, father, son ?
Side by side in death – was it a violent one ?
And those events by which their fate was sealed,
Are they recorded here in artefact ?
The warrior’s sword or chieftain’s sash;
The Leyman’s poles for sighting work, exact,
Along the ley via beacon, stone and flash.
These rolling Lambourne downs are drenched in history,
Come, take the track with me and share the mystery.
Charm wears a mood with profound cheer;
Here by the way I sense a touch;
Ink words on wood parchment right here;
Notes just to say I feel so much;
Align my state with heart and soul.
Etch fond feelings now deep within;
Sense that sure gate with impulse whole;
Cheer wears knowing with thoughts unseen;
Appeal to voice that seems to know;
Pluck music strains that emerge now;
Assign sure choice with passion's glow;
Deign to bear pain that joy allows;
Emerge with cheer that feels profound;
Sense purge of fear as faith now grounds.
01 June 2014
The sun lit the sky and I lit a joint,
The mood was gay and so was Dorian Gray!
Then onward to the coast - Te Arai Point -
On that dusty trail down Forestry way.
Halcyon age of substance over style:
A tall "scab" or ten in the tussock grass,
But the gulf wind off Great Barrier Isle
Blew waves to the shore and sand up my arse!
A campfire did blaze the windward chill,
There were tales and ales and excess pleasures
Long into the night till we had our fill -
Rip, shit and bust...and no countermeasures.
Packed up our tents all - hungover and worn,
And hit the Hot Pools the next ragged morn.
Te Arai Point is a beach on the north-east
Coast of New Zealand where some school
Friends and I used to visit. A weekend road
Trip to an oasis of sand, surf, and stars!
A "scab" was a beer.
Dedicated to Brett, Bev, Gray, Ron, Robbie,
And Marie, and any others whose names I
'All grown-ups were once children...but only few of them remember it.'
– Antoine de Saint-Exupéry in The Little Prince
When we were kids, we agreed that Guemes and Cypress
looked like a boa digesting an elephant on some days,
and on others when the fog would roll in, the Loch Ness.
On the worn crumbled steps of the amphitheater, we gazed
at the horizon dotted with islands, sails and orca fins
and breathed in the air of moss-cedar damp and sea spray,
as time disappeared into campfire smoke and whispering wind.
But as the years rolled by we forgot about Fidalgo Bay.
We traded fog horns and seagulls for honking cars and whining
motor bikes, the salty breeze for an asphalt mirage that reminds
us of the mirrored surface of calm seas, the shining
waves around the boa and the elephant we left behind.
Someday, when our backs are hunched and our legs need a cane,
we’ll go back to a time of gray mists and steady rain.
He stood there on a plateau that only had a tree,
And since he had appeared from nowhere there
Was no a past to be lumbered with.
He sat under the tree mainly because it was
Getting hot and the tree had big thick leaves and
Beside the tree there was a barrel of cold water.
During the day the plateau became shimmering
He saw ponies trotting past like a knitted poncho.
Since he had no past only a fragment of a future
Instinct told him they were going to the green vale
That had grass, shade and a lagoon that reflected
The sky, or was it the other way around?
He sat there tried to visualise future where he didn´t
Exist, but he failed, which made him human.
“Tell me a story,”
The ol' story teller said.
“Fill it with glory
Through which I can be led.”
“Tell me a journey,”
The ol' story teller asked.
“Where do they start firstly?
Which villain is masked?”
“Tell me a quest,”
The ol' story teller encouraged.
“What experience attested?
What fears acknowledged?”
“I’ll tell you a story,”
I did so reply.
“I’ll fill it with glory
Such that none can deny.”
“I’ll tell you a journey,”
I did so say.
“With a villain so thorny,
Only One can slay.”
“I’ll tell you a quest,”
I did so tell.
“of amazing love impress
Or so I will foretell.”
“But be very careful,”
I did so warn.
“This story is wonder-filled
The listener may be reborn.”