The Gift of Song
A maiden fair sang through a sunflower field
on a warm autumn day with the wind in her hair
A melody wafted aloft on the breeze
as a cloud frolicked by with so little a care
She smiled as she hummed with a skip in her step
for the song she was singing she knew from the heart
An old happy tune that she sang as a child
when the flowers would bloom and the springtime would start
Her voice it did carry to valleys below
in a magical form of a heavenly grace
The villagers heard it in echoes above
for the sound of her voice brought a smile to their face
They danced by a fountain the town did provide
in their favourite clothes made of cotton and wool
Drinking a brew that was local to them
with a tankard in hand and a comfortable stool
She walked down the hill in a white flowing gown
on a path often used by the children at play
To sing once again this old song from the past
as the others joined in on this wonderful day
She then spread her wings made of silver and gold
and ascended the sky to a place she did love
As the villagers waved saying someday return
for her wonderful voice was a gift from above
Copyright © Chris Green | Year Posted 2021
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