LT 48 Bard's Requiem (A Poem) 
                      Ambrose Silverharp Winter 1995

O Sing unto me a tragic lay
Of damsels in distress,
Of stalwart knights in gleaming mayle,
Of a milk-maids' sweet caress.

Troll me then the sanguine lament
Of young lads off to war,
Of Mothers' stricken heart,
Of Fathers' pride and Sisters' tears
     All lost, amid the roar of a thousand cries
     From a thousand ravaged throats, long silent,
     Upon the Moor.

Chant to me in prose and verse
Of faeries within the mist,
Of secret smiles and secret tryst,
Of a Warrior's final wish.

Give unto me a soulful song
Of carnage, mayhem and fire,
Of villains foul, Of heroes true,
Who with fell Fate conspire.

A sorrowful song of boyhood friends,
Of well-loved games they played
Among the stones upon the Moor,
Of secret allies made.

Scribe me now the picture rare Of Wisdom warded by Truth
     That sings to the soul a captured song
     Writ upon the silken screen of torment,
     Wrought by the grief-stricken cries of a widowed maid,
     Tears long held in check by pride and unshakable hope,
     That went, forever, unanswered.

Whisper to me a peasant's hymn
Of the land and love and life,
Of sweet young lovers in a hidden glade,
Of promises broken by strife.

Sing unto me a lullaby
Of ancient Oaks at rest,
Of elf-kin dancing in the scented heath,
Of the final sunset...

When day...Is done...